Standing Alone (Harry Potter Eating Disorder Story)

One Shot

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It was summertime and that meant summer break for all the Hogwarts students.

And Harry Potter was on the ceiling of the Dursley's again.

Almost every night that summer, he had unlocked the lock Uncle Vernon had put on his bedroom window with a toothpick he had nicked from their kitchen to climb on top of the house and just relax up there and look at the stars.

He often did this to avoid his nightmares of Sirius, so he wouldn't have to sleep as much. Because when they got particularly bad, he often had small panic attacks, but Harry just thought they were normal. He didn't know he was starting to get a problem.

Harry laid flat on his back and watched the stars slowly move across the sky.

It was kinda how he felt, slow and hopeless.

It was kinda how Sirius died, slow and hopeless.

Harry sighed and rubbed his eyes, while in his mind repeating, don't think of that, don't think of that.

He couldn't help but think about it, it happened so recently. Tears moistened in Harry's eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

His focus tilted to the edge of the ceiling. What if he could be reunite with Sirius?

Harry knew for that to happen, he could only have Sirius alive again, or Harry would have to be dead.

Death didn't seem like a threat to Harry anymore, but a relieve.

Harry shook that thought out of his head, he didn't want to commit suicide, plus it's gonna get better once he's back at Hogwarts, right?

Harry shivered, it was starting to get cold, so he decided to go back inside his tiny bedroom.

__________

A week later, Harry darted awake from the usual nightmare, Sirius' face swimming in and out of his dreams, usually ending in the revisit to Sirius' death.

He knew he should have gone outside, he knew it. He hadn't gone outside for the past three days because it got way to cold for him, for some reason he was always freezing now.

Harry felt his breathe get shorter, oh no.

Another one of his stupid attack things, and he didn't even knew what they were or why he got them, they were kind of random. Harry had been getting them all summer.

Harry felt the usual sense of nausea and he started hyperventilating, he really hated this.

He ran his fingers through his hair, maybe that could calm him? But surprisingly, it worked well.

Harry reminded himself to breathe in and out, how childish, he thought, having to remind yourself how to breathe.

Shame washed inside him, what had happened to him? Nightmares and those weird attacks every other night, barely having energy to eat from not sleeping, and maybe the most disturbing, his thoughts.

Harry slowly rises up from his small bed, to walk across his bedroom, clothes everywhere, and to the mirror arched onto his bedroom door.

Harry ran his fingers through his messy hair, looking a bit thin than its usual thick state. He stared into his glassy, once bright, green eyes.

Harry had worried that, thanks to his physical state, he wouldn't be able to play Quidditch that year. Harry took in his frame. Harry had probably lost about ten pounds that summer. His lack of energy from sleep resulted in his loss of energy in eating, so he probably only ate one or half a meal a day.

Wait, what day is it anyway? Harry thought.

Harry walked, or dragged himself, to the last Daily Prophet he received from Hedwig, which was yesterday.

August 30th...

Harry's heart jumped, he gave a weak smile. Hogwarts was tomorrow!

He glanced over at his clock, it read 2:37am, maybe he could get some hours sleep, and pack the next day?

"Mm, 'm too tired," Harry groaned, using his voice for the first time in a while, "it can wait 'til tomorrow."

And with that said, Harry dozed off to a surprisingly good and deep sleep.

__________

Aunt Petunia knocked heavily on the door the next morning.

"Get up! Get up! Time for you to go to that freakish school!" Her voice rang, irritating.

Harry groaned, and stretched his long, thin arm to reach for his glasses, and he carelessly smacked them on his face.

"Ouch..." He muttered, regretting smacking them on so forcefully, "I'm coming!" He added last, remembering why he was woken up.

Harry crawled out of his bed, walking slowly to his wardrobe.

He examined all the clothes he had. Harry wanted to wear something baggy to cover his obvious weight loss, so Hermione wouldn't get so combative. But it didn't really matter what he chose, none of his clothes fit him anyway.

Harry just went with some jeans and a old baggy sweatshirt. He gathered all of his things and threw them in his trunk, then walked downstairs.

"There you are!" Aunt Petunia shouted, angry, "looks like I'm the one that has to take you to the train station!"

Harry mentally rolled his eyes, knowing if he did it in real life, he probably wouldn't be going to Hogwarts.

"Well boy? Go grab something from the kitchen! I don't want to hear you complaining  about being hungry on the way there!" Aunt Petunia snapped.

Harry's stomach made a weird gurling sound, not from hunger.

"Uh, no thanks, Aunt Petunia," Harry replied, trying not to think about food, especially when he was already nervous.

There was a pause.

Aunt Petunia stared at Harry, "what do you mean, boy? Surely you're hungry? You didn't have dinner last night! How are you not hungry?"

Harry saw her eyes flash, not with anger, to his surprise, it looked like she was concerned.

"No, I'm fine," Harry said, uneasily, then carefully added, "thank you."

Aunt Petunia paused, like she didn't seem to expect Harry to say something polite like 'thank you'.

The car ride to the train station was awkward, neither Harry nor Aunt Petunia spoke.

They finally got there and they said quick 'goodbye's to each other, then Harry pulled his trunk to platform 9 and 3/4.

__________

Harry dragged his trunk down the train's halls, looking for a compartment to sit it.

"Harry!"

Harry turned to see whoever said his name, and saw a slightly shorter than average girl with bushy, brown hair tied in a high ponytail with a very tall and lanky boy with short, vivid red hair running towards him, waving their hands.

Harry gave a weak smile, happy to see his friends again.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted again, hugging him, and almost knocking him over.

Harry winced, Hermione's hugs were always forceful, but they never nearly knock him over. He must've really weakened over the summer.

"Hey Hermione," Harry said, smiling back at Hermione, under his pain, trying not to show it, but he knew it wasn't very convincing.

Hermione finally let go, eyeing Harry suspiciously because she probably noticed his wince. Ron could shake Harry's hand.

"Nice to see you again, mate," Ron smiled, shaking Harry's hand, pretty roughly.

Harry again winced, but managed to say, "you too, Ron," while smiling even if his hand couldn't take much of the hand shake Ron have him.

"Come on! Me and Ron saved a compartment down here!" Hermione said, enthusiastically, gesturing the other way.

Harry followed her and Ron to the compartment, sore from their greetings, but they finally got there and Harry pulled his trunk up.

He raised the trunk about an inch above him when he noticed himself really struggling, but Harry wasn't to make a fool of himself, especially in front of Ron and Hermione.

Hermione seemed to notice and was about to offer some help, as when the whole trunk came crashing down onto Harry.

"Harry!" She exclaimed, getting up from her seat to help the trunk off him.

"I'm okay," Harry gasped, eyes blurring in pain, he could feel his small frame being crushed under the enormous pressure and felt as if he could snap in half any second.

It took both Ron and Hermione to raise the trunk off him and help him up.

Great, he thought, all I wanted was not to be embarrassed, and that's exactly what I did...

"Harry..." Hermione started to question, Harry silently cursed himself for he knew what she was going to say, "have the Durleys been- you know-"

Hermione shot a sharp glance towards Ron, and Ron stared at her.

Hermione sighed, "well, you know, you just seem a little sick, Harry."

Harry felt anger ripple inside him, "yeah, Hermione, because it's every boy's dream to be told they look sick," he said coldly.

"Well, mate, no offense, but she has a point," Ron said, looking regretful, "I've never seen you worse, and normally you look awful when you come back from the muggles."

"Wow, thanks Ron," Harry added, sarcastically, "really, really appreciate it."

"We don't mean to offend you," Hermione whispered, looking frightful, "it's just you look too... thin."

Harry nodded, wanting to get the conversation over with. Arguing with Hermione about his eating habits was definitely not something he wanted to do.

"Well, anyway," Ron said, happily, obviously trying to change the subject, "are you going to do Quidditch this year, Harry?"

"Yeah," Harry responded, still a little a pissed off of what Ron said.

"Good," Ron replied, cheerfully, "I was going to try out, well, maybe," his ears turned red, "I might not, because I don't know if I'll be able to take into Wood's footsteps, which were pretty big if you know what I mean."

Harry chuckled, "you'll be fine, Ron, with a bit of practice."

Ron nodded, uneasy.

Harry looked out the window and felt the cold hard texture of the window, it immediately reminded him of the dementors.

He remembered how they were searching the train three years ago, looking for Sirius.

Harry felt his eyes get prickly, then impatiently blinked the tears away.

__________

"Harry?"

A voice interrupted Harry's thoughts, he focused his attention on Hermione, who he had known said his name.

Harry saw the enormous amount of food on her and Ron's plates, he didn't know how they could eat so much.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Hermione asked, concern in her eyes.

"No thanks," Harry replied, "I'm not hungry."

"But you didn't eat anything on the train either!" Hermione said, upset, "how can you not be hungry?"

"I'm just not, really," Harry responded, carefully choosing his words, "I'm not trying to make excuses, I'm just exhausted, really, I swear."

Harry hated lying, especially to his best friends. But it was half true, he didn't feel hungry, but it was because of his stomach getting used to not eating anything over the summer. He didn't know why he just didn't like eating anymore.

"Well, alright," she whispered, still looking concerned, "if you're so tired, then go to bed. Tomorrow's the first day of classes, and it will be the worst if you fall asleep during it."

Harry's heart jumped. An easy excuse to grab, "okay, well, good night, guys."

Harry partially hopped out of his seat, nearly knocking people out of their seats, and then when he saw he was alone, he ran for the common room.

He finally reached the portrait.

"Password?" The fat lady asked.

"I-," Harry started, he doesn't know the password!

"Can you just let me in? I've had a really long day," Harry begged, "please?"

The fat lady sighed loudly.

"Come on, you've known me for years," Harry said, impatiently, "I've lived here for five years!"

"Ugh, fine," the fat lady responded, opening, "but this isn't a daily thing!"

"Thank you!" Harry exclaimed, happily climbing inside.

He reached inside when he immediately recognized the brilliant fire scent and cozy feeling.

Harry walked up to the dormitories, and closed the door to his. He had it all to himself.

It wasn't until a wave a nausea hit Harry, that he collapsed onto his bed.

Harry tried to raise his eyelids, but they were like heavy curtains, forcing them to close, and then everything went black as Harry slept.

__________

"No- no-," Harry moaned in his sleep, "no- stop, stay back-!"

Harry awoke, drenched in cold sweat, his hands trembling.

Another nightmare, reliving Sirius' death.

Harry glanced at the clock, it was 2:08am.

He reached for his glasses and slapped them on his face, as his hands trembled more violently.

He stammered up form his bed and sprinted to the bathroom, careful not to wake anyone.

Harry ran a finger through his hair as his breathe got shorter.

"Shit," Harry hissed, reminding himself to breathe again.

The first night back and already he was having those stupid attacks.

Harry's trembling turned into violent shaking. He had to sit himself down to calm himself down.

He ran his fingers through his hair, but it wasn't working.

His breathe got shorter and shorter and his shaking so violent that he knew if he kept this up, he would definitely wake the others.

He needed something, anything.

Harry desperately looked around, but he couldn't find anything that could possibly calm him down.

His breathe was getting shorter still. He felt as if he was having a heart attack, but he knew better.

Then, out of nowhere, he found a razor.

Probably Seamus', Harry thought, he did have a lot of beard hair...

How is this supposed to calm me? He thought to himself.

That's when the attack got way worse, actually the worst attack he'd experienced all summer.

The shaking of his hands got so violent he couldn't control them any longer, they were thrashing around like crazy.

Since the razor was in his hand at the time, it got caught onto his pajama arm sleeve and cut a nasty cut in them.

Harry winced in pain, but his breathe got more steady. The attack was getting better.

The shaking of his hand got less violent, and slowly turned into trembling again.

After his attack was over, Harry steadied himself on the bathroom sink, and lifted his sleeve up to see the cut.

His sleeve was ruined, all bloody and cut up, but his arm was probably worse. It was a long cut, it was bleeding and even burning. It came all the way across to the other side of his arm it was so long, but luckily it wasn't that deep.

Harry wet a paper towel and laid it on the cut. When the burning immediately stopped, he felt relieved.

Good, it's all over.

Harry wrapped the wet paper towel on his cut and lifted the sleeve back down.

He opened the bathroom door to leave and then quietly walked back to his bed.

As Harry laid there, trying to go to sleep, but failing. He thought about how cutting his arm made him calm down.

He knew it wasn't healthy. Harry knew stories of people cutting themselves. Like last year, when Hermione's cousin had been cutting herself and then she almost died. Hermione had to go back to her home to see her in the hospital.

Harry tossed, and then he decided that he wouldn't do it again. After a while, he drifted back to sleep.

__________

"Harry, please just eat something," Hermione voice pleaded, sounding usually desperate.

Harry's eyes looked into Hermione's eyes. Today was the third day back to Hogwarts. It was strange to Harry that he didn't feel hunger anymore.

"Mate, c'mon," Ron stated, eating his third piece of toast, "food is great, it makes no sense to be not hungry on purpose."

Easy for you to say, Harry thought, you've never been starved, have you?

Harry stared at Ron's huge plate filled with various foods. His stomach flipped at the thought and smell of it. Harry looked back down to the table, trying to not breathe in the smell of the food.

"Harry, please!" Hermione hissed, concerned, "it's been three days! Three! And still you haven't eaten a thing!"

"I'm not hungry," Harry replied, simply, looking at her.

"Not hungry?" Hermione exclaimed, now frustrated, "how can you not be hungry? All these days, all you've done is say you're not hungry! You didn't eat any breakfast or lunch on your first day and hardly any dinner! Yesterday, all you ate was an apple and that's it! Well, I don't care if you're hungry or not!"

Hermione glared at Harry, Harry looked at her, a little frightened. Then all the sudden, she started piling food on a plate.

She piled two eggs, three strips of bacon, two slices of toast, a couple of scoops of grits, and, on a different plate, a huge pile of fruit.

"Hermione-" Harry started to ask, but she gave him a deathly glare.

She poured a large glass of water, and then she set all her work in front of Harry.

"Now I want you to eat this," Hermione stated, furrowing her eyebrows, and sounding as it was really important, "all of it," she added, looking at Harry's horrified expression.

"I appreciate the concern," Harry replied, annoyed, "but you're not my babysitter, Hermione."

"I don't care, you haven't eaten hardly a thing in days," Hermione snapped, "Madame Pomfrey will have you on a feeding tube if she knows about this."

Harry rolled his eyes, but was defeated. It wouldn't hurt him to eat a little bit, right?

He picked up his fork and decided to start at the grits, he took a bite out of them.

Harry chewed them uncomfortably, because of not having anything in his mouth in a couple days, other then the occasional apple, it felt weird to chew something.

He swallowed the glush and felt his stomach lurch uncomfortably. This wasn't going to end well.

Harry decided to eat fast. The faster he ate, the faster this was over, he told himself.

Next thing Harry knew, he had eaten almost everything on his plate, except for some of his fruit and half a piece of bread.

Harry's stomach felt as if it was going to flip completely upside down any second, so he tried not to move.

"I'm so glad you ate today, Harry," Hermione said, happy and relieved, "I was really getting scared."

"Yeah," Harry replied, careful of his movements, "it was no big deal, maybe I had the stomach sickness or something, I was feeling a bit ill." He hated lying.

Hermione smiled, "it's good you feel better."

"Class is about to start," Ron said, glancing at his watch, "let's get going."

Hermione and Ron stood up and walked outside.

Harry raised himself slowly. He didn't feel good, at all.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked down the hall for their Charms class, but Harry paused, he felt sick.

"I'm just gonna go to the bathroom," Harry said, quickly, but then added, "no, really, I'm okay," after seeing Hermione's and Ron's concerned looks.

Ron nudged Hermione, and she gave Harry a small smile, and then walked to their class with Ron.

Harry saw they were out of sight and ran. He ran as fast as he could, he turned to the nearest bathroom and sprinted inside the nearest stall, and then fell to his knees as a horrible wave of nausea hit him.

Harry thought about what he could do, he wasn't used to having all this food inside his stomach, he had to get rid of it. It was literally making him sick.

The idea raced in Harry's head, throwing up. Then Harry thought about how to.

Something needs to trigger it...

He didn't know if this could possibly work, but sometimes he could feel himself about to throw up if it was triggered by something in his throat, like a gag reflex or something.

So he decided to test it out, Harry stuck his two fingers down his throat.

Harry felt the hot bile rise up his throat, and he quickly raised the toilet seat up, and retched vomit inside.

Harry felt as if his throat was going to tear, but for some reason, kept throwing up.

When Harry finally felt his stomach emptied, he stopped.

The nausea had stopped and he felt lighter than he had in days, in short, he felt good.

Harry flushed the sick and walked to the mirror. He saw his red eyes and white face, and he rinsed his mouth with water.

Then Harry casted a cleansing spell, to rid of the awful stench of vomit.

Harry looked around again to see if anyone was there, then he went on his way to his Charms lesson.

__________

Finally, it was October now.

Harry's discovery of his new "habit" of throwing up was working in his favor. He was starting to eat some of his breakfast, lunch, and dinner, then he would make himself vomit, of course. And Hermione was falling into the trap Harry had set himself up for.

His figure wasn't getting any normal, though. Harry was still pretty thin, but it wasn't bothering him anymore, in fact, he wanted to be thinner.

The reason was, that he had been appointed Quidditch Captain that year, and being thinner was his goal for Quidditch. The lighter you are, the faster you'll be, Harry told himself. Besides, a seeker needs to be thin, right?

Hermione was so happy Harry was eating again, that she had stopped piling his plate up at meal times. She didn't know that Harry would just eat the food he served himself and then go to the restroom to go throw it back up.

Ron was a different story, he still didn't catch on with the panic attacks Harry had every other night, which weren't getting better. And he also exercised with Harry almost every free afternoon they had for Quidditch.

And Harry. His throat started to hurt slightly, it felt as if it was going to tear sometimes. At nights, Harry's panic attacks got pretty bad, but he had never woken up any of his fellow Gryffindors, so that was kinda an achievement.

But it all went worse during one night, when Harry had a nightmare...

Harry was in the great hall, waiting for the feast to start with Ron and Hermione.

The food appeared and for some reason it attracted Harry so much more than usual.

Harry began eating all the food, he swallowed all the deserts whole and then started for the main courses, earning laughs and sneers from everyone.

"What a fat ass," called Draco Malfoy, "I can't believe they could appoint him a seeker, let alone the captain."

Everyone laughed, and to Harry's horror, including Ron and Hermione. The comment stuck to Harry like glue, but he tried to stop himself from eating, but he couldn't stop.

"You're disgusting, Harry," Hermione snarled, her voice echoing all through the room, "look at yourself, eating like a pig, it's truly disgusting."

Harry felt his eyes get prickly, but he continued to eat, he was trying so hard to stop himself but he couldn't.

"Gross," barked Ron, "look at his fat, it's literally hanging from his back!"

Someone had grabbed Harry's back fat, and let go quickly then everyone barked with laughter.

Harry stopped eating and looked down at his hands, so chubby and gross. Then his stomach and legs, it looked as if he had magically fattened.

Something wasn't right, and Harry knew it. He was fattening quicker than Aunt Marge did three years ago. This wasn't possible, he had to be dreaming. This was a nightmare

But Harry still felt shame and embarrassment wash in him, like huge waves in the ocean, he ran to the bathroom while everyone was left laughing at him.

Harry closed the door and locked it, so no one could follow him, then ran to the nearest toilet.

Harry stuck his fingers down his throat, but nothing was coming up.

He tried and tried again, even stuck his whole hand down his throat in desperation, but nothing came up.

Now frustrated, he tried again and gag out very little vomit, but that was it.

And out of nowhere, barking laughter erupted from the stalls.

The stall door tore open and everyone has standing there, pointing and laughing at him.

Then Harry felt his heart ache as he saw Ron and Hermione in the crowd laughing at him.

"You're disgusting, Potter!" Malfoy shouted, laughing so hard he had to hold himself.

Harry felt the tears come in his eyes fast, the tears raced down his face faster than he could prevent them.

"Look at you!" Hermione yelled, her words hurting him more than Malfoy's, "you're a sixteen year old boy, and you're throwing up to lose weight? How pathetic! You might as well be an insecure little girl!"

"Honestly, it's embarrassing that you're my best friend!" Ron roared, words as cold as ice spears, "ha! Yeah right!"

Then, Ron came towards him, and held out his hand.

Everyone strangely stopped laughing, and looked coldly at him, not making a sound.

Harry's heart warmed up a bit, and he wiped his tears impatiently, and he smiled. Then Harry took Ron's hand.

Ron immediately slammed his hand out of Harry's and shouted, "what? You thought I was going to help you?"

Harry's smile faded.

"No, I wasn't," Ron hissed, no longer laughing, but looking coldly at the boy, "you don't deserve help."

Ron's words stuck to Harry. Literally tearing his heart, never had anything hurt him like this.

Then Ron's fist threw a huge whack into Harry's face.

Harry awoke in cold sweat, and he immediately started to cry.

Hot tears traces his face, as he didn't make an attempt to wipe them away, Harry just let them fall.

Then, again, came the panic attack.

Harry's breathe got shorter and he started shaking again. His head started to ache horribly too as the usual wave of nausea hit him.

Harry knew if waited here in his bed for the attack to be over, he would definitely wake the others.

So he tried to carefully walk to the bathroom. Knocking a few things over on the way, but only earning an interrupted snore from Ron.

Harry closed the door to the bathroom quietly and he splashed his face with water from the sink, trying to calm himself, but it wasn't working.

Harry started to hyperventilate again, this time more horribly than other attacks he'd had. The shaking wasn't as bad though.

Harry reminded himself to breathe in and out, but this wasn't working either.

Harry felt as if he was having a heart attack, but since he'd had these panic attacks before, he knew it wasn't one.

Harry needed to stop this, but he didn't know how, until...

No.

Harry knew it wasn't healthy to cut yourself, at all. But this was getting really bad. It worked last time, right?

Out of desperation, Harry reached for the nearest razor. Then he rolled his sleeve up.

Is this really what I want? Harry thought.

Harry's breathe started getting shorter, and Harry thought it was worth it.

So then, Harry cut a thin, straight line into his wrist. Harry felt as if he had let it all out, he felt relaxed.

His breathe got steadier, but not steady enough.

So then again, Harry cut another line below the first one. It was working!

Maybe another could help...

When Harry was done, he had six new cuts on his arm. He felt shame wash inside him.

Harry cursed at himself. He had broken his own promise not to cut again.

But it helped relax myself, didn't it? Yeah, it did, Harry thought to himself.

Harry wrapped a wet towel on his arm and then he washed the razor he used to cut himself with.

Then, Harry closed the door to the bathroom and headed back to his bed.

__________

"Potter!" A voice called, chasing Harry down the hallway as he went to his next class.

Harry turned around and saw McGonagall's image coming towards him.

"Yes, Professor?" Harry asked, wanting to catch up with Ron and wanting McGonagall to hurry up saying whatever she needed to say.

"The results for Quidditch have been printed," McGonagall said, in her stern tone, "so, I have a copy for you, and a copy for you to put out in the common room for everyone that wishes to see them, and I forgot to add, that the coming game is in two weeks, November 2nd, have a good day, Potter," she handed him the papers.

Harry took them, and as she started to turn around, Harry said, "oh, thank you, Professor!"

McGonagall paused and turned back around, "it's my pleasure, Potter," she smiled, then her smile faded, "may I ask, have you been feeling ill lately?"

"No," Harry responded, confused.

"Oh, that's good then," McGonagall replied, looking as if she regretted asking a personal question like that, "well, you would do good with some extra food, Potter. You're just looking a bit... thin, these days," she picked out her words carefully.

Harry nodded, and lied, "no, I'm alright, Professor. It's just all the extra work from Quidditch," Harry hated lying, but he had to do it. Anyway, he took being called thin as a compliment.

"Well then, Potter," she smiled and then continued, "I'm glad you're working hard, but it's doing this effect on you, then it's best if you, relax a little."

"Oh okay," Harry smiled, "I'll try."

"Good," McGonagall replied, beaming, "well, I'll see you in class today, Potter. Have a good day."

"You too, Professor," Harry responded, his grip tightening in the papers.

She turned to leave and that left Harry with the papers.

Oh, you're already late anyway, Harry thought, it'll just take a few minutes...

The paper read:

Gryffindor Chasers: Katie Bell, Demelza Robins, Ginny Weasley

Gryffindor Beaters: Richard Cootes, Jimmy Peakes

Gryffindor Keeper: Ron Weasley

Gryffindor Seeker: Harry Potter

Gryffindor Quidditch Captain: Harry Potter

Gryffindor Quidditch Co-Captain: Ginny Weasley

Harry smiled, he liked the team, but he didn't know that they're were going to be co-captains this year. There weren't any the years before.

Then, he remembered McGonagall asking if he had been ill lately. Maybe she thought that he wouldn't be able to captain a whole team, and needed help.

Anger boiled in Harry. He didn't need help to captain a team, he could do it by himself!

In reality, Harry didn't know why he was so angry, it wasn't really a big deal.

Harry took a deep breathe and pushed the thought to the back of his head. He then stuffed the papers in his pocket and headed to his class.

__________

"Ron! Hermione! Look at this!" Harry exclaimed cheerfully as he saw them in the great hall for lunch.

He set the great paper down on the table for them all to see it.

"The Quidditch results!" Ron exclaimed, grinning widely, "ha! Look! I've made keeper! And Ginny's chaser, and co-captain! Wait until I tell her, she'll freak!"

"Congratulations on making the team!" Hermione said, happily, "funny how they've made Ginny co-captain, though. I mean, I know she's brilliant at Quidditch, but they've never done co-captains before, have they?"

Harry felt sorrow shot through him. Of course he knew why they made her co-captain, in case he wasn't capable of leading a team with his health.

"You know why, Harry," Hermione said to him, suspicion in her brown eyes.

"Yeah, because she's brilliant, like you said," Harry replied, trying to seem casual, but he was a bit envious.

"That's not why," Hermione replied, then she added to Ron, "I know she's great, but that's not why."

Ron gave a satisfied hum, then he went back to eating his ribs.

"Listen, I just wanted to share the news with you," Harry said, annoyed, "I didn't come here to talk to you about my health advantages and disadvan-"

"So that's why!" Hermione exclaimed, satisfied now, then her expression changed to concern, "because of your health? That seems odd."

"Well, yeah," Harry replied, irritated now, "McGonagall told me all about it, seems stupid, though. I can take care of a team by myself."

Hermione gave him a guilty glance.

"What? Do you agree with her?" Harry asked her, trying to maintain himself.

"Well..." She said, with a guilty look, picking at her food with her fork.

"Yeah, you do," Harry said, angrily.

"I just think you could do with a bit more food," Hermione responded, worriedly, "you're so thin. Perhaps they made her co-captain to help you out."

"I don't need help," Harry snapped, "I could do just fine without her."

"Harry, yes I know that," Hermione said, softly.

"Obviously you don't," Harry said, not maintaining his anger anymore, "if you did, you wouldn't agree with her!"

"I'm just saying!" Hermione snapped back, dropping her fork on the ground out of anger, not being soft anymore, "you're so skinny, Harry! You don't see yourself! I'm surprised they even put you on the team this year!"

Everyone seemed to be quiet, it was obvious everyone had heard their argument.

It felt as if a ice cold spear was being thrusted in his heart. But at the same time, white hot anger flew in him, and Harry jumped straight up from the table and stormed out of the great hall.

Harry didn't look back as he particularly ran from the great hall, but he heard a few gasps.

Harry felt the urge stronger than ever. The urge to eat so much food that his stomach might tear, then throw it all back up, and maybe, to cut his skin with a potions knife.

He didn't know why he didn't see this before, using Seamus' razor. Ha! He could've just used his potions knife.

Now, he had stopped running. How was he going to get food if he wasn't in the great hall?

Harry sat on the stairs and thought. Wait, what about the kitchens?

Harry bolted back up, the kitchens! He knew Dobby would gladly give him food.

He then ran back down the stairs and ran past the great hall and ran into the painting with the fruits. He wondered how he could get in, didn't he just have to tickle the pear or something?

Harry wished Hermione was there, after all she was the one that showed him how to get into the kitchens. His heart started to ache.

Harry decided to give that a try, hoping he's memory won't fail him. Harry awkwardly tickled the pear and it started giggling, then the painting opened.

Harry was relieved and jumped inside, to see all the house elves working in there.

"Harry Potter!" A high voice exclaimed.

Harry turned around and saw Dobby at his feet, "hello Dobby!" He replied, smiling.

"Harry Potter, is there anything you need from Dobby, or the kitchens!" Dobby responded, grinning widely.

"Oh yeah!" Harry said, "Dobby? Is there anyway I could have some food?" There was a pause to allow Harry to come up with a lie, "I was practicing for Quidditch, and when I came back, lunch had already ended."

"Of course!" Dobby exclaimed, still grinning, "anything for Harry Potter, sir!"

Then before Harry could thank him, Dobby disappeared and seconds later, he came back with several large boxes of food.

"Is this enough, sir?" Dobby asked, "Dobby tried to get more, but the others won't allow it!"

"Yeah! This is great!" Harry exclaimed, happily, "thank you, Dobby!"

"Anything for Harry Potter!" Dobby said, beaming with pleasure.

__________

Harry locked the dormitory door.

He knew no one would come anyway, it was class time, but just in case he locked it anyway.

Harry undid the boxes, and found exactly what he was looking for.

One box was purely of chips and crackers, the next was of ice cream. And the rest were great snacks that Harry loved, like chocolate and cereal.

Then, the binge started. Harry basically attacked the food. And he ate as fast as he could too.

Harry are one whole tub of ice cream, another bag of chips, and a whole container of chocolates, and he didn't stop there.

Harry then felt his stomach about to burst, like he wanted it to. Harry whispered a charm to quickly hide the boxes. Then came the purging.

Harry ran to the bathroom and locked it too.

He kneeled down, and stuck his two fingers down his throat and reached the trigger.

Harry felt the bile come up his throat, and vomited into the toilet. Feeling more coming up, he continued to throw up.

As disgusting as it sounds, the toilet was getting full, and Harry flashed it quickly, then continued to retch inside of it.

Harry felt his throat give sharp hot aches. It felt as if it had tore in half.

He wished the vomiting would stop, it never did.

"Alohamora," someone whispered outside the bathroom and the bathroom door opened.

Harry tried to stop because he knew that someone had walked inside, but the bile overcame him, and he continued to throw up vigorously.

"Harry!" A voice exclaimed, a voice Harry recognized as Ron's, "are you- throwing up?"

Harry felt panic rise in him, and tried to stop but yet again, he couldn't.

A hand laid on Harry's shoulder. Then finally, after a good five minutes of sitting there, just vomiting. It stopped.

He flushed the toilet, and raised his wand to say the cleansing spell. The room was rid of all the odors.

"Harry," Ron whispered, obviously shocked, "are you alright?"

"Yeah," Harry responded, shocked also, and trying to find the right words, "I'm okay, I've just been a little sick." again with the lying.

"I dunno about 'okay'," Ron said, he gave a small chuckle, "that was quite a nasty throw up, are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry lied, "it's all good, I just wasn't feeling well and I must've ate something that had gone bad."

"Alright, mate," Ron said, rising up and holding out a hand for Harry.

Harry took it, and said, "thanks Ron."

"No problem," Ron replied, opening the door for Harry and himself, "anyway, are you angry at Hermione?"

"Yeah, a bit," Harry said, anger coming back to him, "I mean, it's different for her to have an opinion and keep it in her head, but she shouted it to me in front of the whole school!"

"Yeah, I give you that one," Ron replied, softly, "she feels really bad, though."

"Well, I honestly think she should," Harry said, annoyed and angry.

__________

The whole two weeks, Harry didn't say a word to Hermione.

It was obvious Hermione was sorry, even if she didn't say. Every time Harry was in the same room as her, she'd try somehow to communicate with him. Harry knew this and tried even harder to ignore her.

But, today was the first Quidditch match. The event Harry had been training for the past weeks.

Now, this was it.

Harry walked down to breakfast in his Quidditch gear with Ron, who was also in his Quidditch gear.

"Okay, so let's eat quickly. Maybe we can fit some extra time to practice before the match," Harry told Ron, as they walked into the great hall, "let's let the rest of the team know."

They walked in and stood in front of their seats.

"Alright, I can ask Ginny to pass the word around," Ron replied.

"Thanks, Ron," Harry said, as Ron walked over to Ginny.

Harry sat down. This gave him time to plan what to do about throwing it up.

Ron kinda knew. He had found him throwing up, but Harry told him he was just sick, that it was no big deal.

So now Harry was extra careful around him, even if Ron was a little naive, he could still find out.

Okay, so I'll just have to eat this really quick and go throw up in the restroom by the dressing rooms, Harry thought.

Harry ate quickly, Ron was still talking to Ginny.

Harry was eating his toast when Ron came back to sit by him and eat his own food. Harry knew Ron would get suspicious if Harry just got up and left to the bathroom, so he'd better just wait for him. After all, Harry had this under control, right?

Ron ate his food quickly, and they walked down to the fields together, then Ginny tagged along.

"You guys go on," Harry said to the team, "I'm just going to use the bathroom before we practice."

Ron and Ginny nodded, then they all went down the pitch.

Harry went to the bathroom, and locked the door, which he knew now was basically useless because anyone could just use "alohamora" and open it.

Harry stuck his finger down his throat and started vomiting into the toilet.

After he was done, he flushed it, and he washed his mouth.

Harry unlocked the door and walked out, then someone had jumped on him.

"Hey-!" Harry gasped, confused, then he realized that person that jumped on him, was Hermione, and that jump was actually a quite forceful hug.

"Harry, I'm really sorry," Hermione said, into his chest, her voice sounding tearful, "I shouldn't has said that! Especially in front of all those people! That was such a horrible thing for me to say!"

"Hermione-" Harry replied, shocked, and hugging her back, "it's- it's okay, there was no harm done. I was being dramatic."

"Oh, Harry!" Hermione said, smiling and relived, "I'm really glad you're not angry at me anymore." She then pulled away.

"It's fine, Hermione," Harry said, happy that they're friends again, "let's just forget about all this."

"That sounds wonderful," Hermione responded, beaming.

"Oi, Potter!" Ginny's voice shouted out from the pitch, "we have a game to win! Let's go!"

Harry looked at Hermione and smiled, Hermione hugged him again and said, "good luck Harry! And tell Ron I said good luck to him too!"

"I will!" Harry said, as Hermione pulled away again and he grabbed his broom on his way out and mounted it.

Harry flew towards Ginny, who made a motion for him to come on over.

"We have company," she said, pointing to the crowds of people coming their way, "the game's going to start any second, be glad we came early or we would've missed it."

"Oh yeah, I'm real glad now," Harry replied, "well, tell the others and we'll have this thing started when it wants to."

__________

"Captains shake hands!" Madame Hooch shouted over the cheers of all the Slytherins and Gryffindors.

Harry shook the Slytherin guy's hand, whom he didn't even know. But Harry felt his hand getting crushed by the Slytherin guy and when they pulled away, Harry kicked the guy in his shins.

"Potter, no! Lucky that wasn't a foul," Madame Hooch said, with a wink, she must've seen Harry's hand getting crushed.

Harry smiled back and grimaced at the Slytherin captain who looked as if he was going to kill Harry.

"Alright! Game begins in three, two," then she released the quaffle, "now!"

Ginny took the quaffle and raced down to the Slytherin goals. As then Harry flew up high by the stands, looking for the snitch.

He didn't pay any attention to the person telling what was happening. He just kinda wanted this game to be over, and when that thought hit him, a huge wave of nausea hit him too.

Harry steadied himself with his hands. His head pounded with nausea again, making him want to cry out.

But he had to look for the snitch.

Harry put his hands back on the broom and flew around the pitch in search for it, but nothing.

Then, Harry saw it.

The snitch was gliding above one of the Gryffindor stands, and Harry raced after it.

Draco Malfoy was on his tail, seeing that Harry had spotted the snitch.

His head throbbed with pain as he continued to race after it, he really just wanted to slow down but couldn't.

Draco Malfoy had caught up with him now, right beside him, Harry tried to go faster but his head felt as if it was going to be ripped off.

Malfoy was starting to get ahead of him, Harry tried to catch up, but then Malfoy gave him a good whack on the head with his broom tail and Harry felt his head soar with more pain than ever.

He had to stop, he just had to. If he didn't, Harry would have definitely had fainted and dropped on the field.

Then, the enormous cheers from the stands and Malfoy shouting with something gold in his hand gave Harry the knowledge that Malfoy had caught the snitch, and Slytherin had won.

"And Slytherin wins!" Shouted the voice over at the stands.

__________

Harry kicked his Firebolt over to the ground beside the dressing room in rage.

He was pissed, really pissed. After all he trained for, after all the hard work, they didn't even score a damn goal!

Of course, Harry didn't blame the team at all. The game was the shortest one Harry had ever played, no one could score a goal in that period of time. But Harry did blame himself, he thought he could catch the snitch, he had been the first to spot it anyway.

The whole team had walked inside the room, all looking just as pissed as him.

Harry didn't even want to look at any of them, until Ginny came up to him.

"Hey," she said, sitting down beside him on the bench, "so, I thought I saw you see the snitch first, and then you got thrown off. What happened?"

Harry looked up at her, to at least look her in the eye to prove he wasn't lying, "I got this really bad headache while I was flying towards the snitch, and just to make it worse, Malfoy had caught up and flown past me, then he whacked me in the head over with his broomstick."

"Damn," Ginny replied, her expression unreadable, but hard, "Malfoy's a git."

"Yeah," Harry said, without emotion.

"I can't believe this!" A shrilly voice shouted loudly, Harry knew it was Hermione.

"I saw that! I saw what that prat did!" Hermione shouted, red with anger, and sitting beside Harry and Ginny on the bench.

"I did too!" Ron's angry voice shouted from across the room, he stormed over there.

"Yeah, we all did," Ginny said, softly.

"That is so unfair!" Hermione exclaimed, "he hit you with his broomstick-"

"And you were sick anyway!" Ron shouted, angrily, "that stupid git!"

Hermione paused in her rant and turned to look at Harry, the usual suspension in her brown eyes.

Harry silently cursed to himself.

"You were sick?" Hermione asked, her voice slightly shaking.

"I mean, not anymore," Harry told them, Ginny was staring at him too while Ron realized that he shouldn't had said that.

"When?" Hermione exclaimed, "I didn't hear you were sick-"

"Like a while ago," Harry replied, giving Hermione short answers.

"Why would you play Quidditch if you knew you sick-" Hermione exclaimed, frustrated.

"I told you, it was a while ago!" Harry said, irritated, "I feel fine now!"

"No you don't," Ginny said, staring hard at him, suspension in her eyes too, "you just told me you already had a headache while you were flying," as if she knew what he was going to say, she added, "before Malfoy hit you."

Hermione stared at him, Harry knew she wanted her question answered.

"I just wanted to play! The sickness was gone before I got up to flying, then it just came back," Harry said, wanting to let this whole conversation go.

"Okay..." Hermione replied, still suspicious, but she decided to drop it, she then stood up and left.

"Well, I got to go now," Ginny said to Harry and Ron, "good game, guys."

"You too," Harry replied, then Ginny left.

"Sorry mate, I forgot she didn't know that you were sick," Ron said, guiltily.

"It's fine," Harry told him, "I'm just glad she dropped it."

"Yeah, same," Ron said, and then they walked back to the castle.

__________

Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all sitting in the great hall, eating their dinner.

"Oi, Potter!" Someone called Harry.

Harry looked over, and then saw Malfoy acting out an exaggerated impression of Harry grabbing his head and crying out while the other Slytherins laughed.

Harry felt his face get red and he turned back around.

"Don't listen to them, Harry," Hermione said, softly, "it wasn't your fault."

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry replied, gloomily.

He picked at his food, he really didn't feel like eating. He was starting to feel like he had felt over the summer, just not hungry.

Then, he heard Malfoy calling him again and then shortly heard all the Slytherins bark with laughter.

"I think I'm going to head to bed," Harry said, upset, as the Slytherins continued to laugh.

"Aren't you going to eat anything?" Hermione asked him, as Harry stood up.

"No, I'm not hungry," Harry replied and saw the usual glint of suspension in her eyes, "I think the headache's coming back, I'll just go." he lied.

"Okay, hope you feel better," Hermione responded, concerned.

Harry turned and walked quickly from the Great Hall and heard the laughs from the Slytherins start to fade.

He was really upset about them losing the game, although he tried not to show it, it was pretty obvious. Then he felt the urge, not the urge to binge and purge, but to cut.

I need to get more serious in Quidditch, Harry thought, this was all my fault, they lost because of me. Be glad that they haven't kicked you off the team.

Harry's eyebrows furrowed as he continued to walk quickly up the stairs. He needed a plan. A plan to get better in Quidditch.

He reached the portrait, and said the password, then he walked inside the common room.

It was basically empty except of some first years playing chess, Harry walked up to his dormitory.

Harry looked at all the food boxes he had hid under his bed, of course all of them actually fit under there, so he put a charm on them to make them seem smaller, but once they were out from under his bed, they would expand to their regular size.

He somehow kinda forgot how it felt to be hungry. His stomach turned at the thought of all the food under the bed.

The urge hit him again and Harry opened his trunk. He never really even used his potions knife, because he never really cared for Potions at all.

He looked all over his trunk, then found the package in which he had bought the knife in that September. He remembered explaining to Professor McGonagall about how he hadn't had time to go to Diagon Alley, so he ordered all his supplies the first week by owl.

Harry tore the package paper open, and took the knife in hand.

Did he really want to do this? He had stopped before and now was he really going to come back to cutting?

Yes, the urge was as stronger than ever, he wanted to do it, no he needed to do it.

Harry rolled up his sleeve, and then placed the cold knife on his skin, and he slid it across.

It felt so good, Harry hated to admit it because of all the shame, but it really did.

It felt as if as all the breathe he had been holding in for a while, he could finally breathe out.

Then he did another cut, then another, until he had cut nine rather small cuts on his arm. His other cuts that he did back in October hadn't completely healed, but they didn't have scabs anymore.

Harry put some toilet paper in his sleeve and then he rolled it back down, and put up his knife. He felt really good.

Good, but tired, Harry thought.

In his clothes, Harry crawled into his bed and closed his eyes as he yawned. He went straight to sleep.

__________

Professor McGonagall raised her head at her students.

It was about a couple weeks later after the Quidditch loss. And still, Harry got taunted for every little thing by the Slytherins, he swore one day he was going to break Malfoy's neck.

He was always on edge anyway. And being on edge reflected on a huge decrease in basically all his grades.

Thanks to starving himself basically. But Harry applauded himself, next to no one noticed that Harry would get serve food on his plate, and Hermione would approve then go back to eating her food, then all he would do is chew it and then spit it out in a napkin. But sometimes, he would get hungry and eat it and then throw it back up.

Harry looked up anxiously. All year he had achieved good grades, but they were starting to slip a little.

"I have graded all your papers," McGonagall said, sternly. And with the wave of her wand, all the papers went in different directions.

Harry's paper landed right in front of him, folded in half.

Harry groaned, if your paper was folded in half, it automatically meant that you had failed while Hermione's obviously wasn't folded and in big red ink stated '100', and even Ron's wasn't folded, which his usually was.

"Harry, again?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes, "what did you miss?"

"I don't know," he replied, not really wanting to see his grade, "I haven't opened it yet."

"I got an 75!" Ron exclaimed, grinning, then added, "hey, at least I didn't fail, Hermione," when she gave him that look of annoyance..

Ron's eyes glanced over at Harry's paper, then his smile disappeared, a look of guilt replaced it, knowing he shouldn't had said that.

"Shit, sorry mate," Ron said, guiltily.

"It's fine, I don't care anyway," Harry replied, shoving his paper in his bag.

The beg rung, and Harry, Hermione, and Ron had started packing up for the next class.

"Mr. Potter," McGonagall said, "I'd like to see you after class."

The Slytherins ooed, and Harry rolled his eyes.

"What happened now, Potter?" Malfoy sneered, "did someone dare lay a finger on your precious, delicate head?"

Harry spun around in fury, but then Ron held him back.

"That's enough, Mr. Malfoy," McGonagall said, giving him a hard look.

Malfoy smirked and turned to look at Harry then sniggered followed by the other Slytherins, then they all left.

"You guys go on," Harry said to Ron and Hermione, then they left the classroom.

"Come and sit," McGonagall told him.

Harry pulled up and chair in front of McGonagall's desk and sat down.

"I've seen a drop in your grades, not just in my class," she said, eyeing him, Harry winced slightly, "the rest of the teachers had wished me to talk to you about this."

"Yes," was all Harry could think of to say.

"You were at one period during the school year, top of this class." McGonagall said, sadness in her voice.

Harry gulped, he didn't know what to say.

"I've called you here, to ask why," she stated, this was definitely not something Harry was expecting. He thought that she was going to take the mickey out of him for his decease in grades.

"Well, I-I don't really know," Harry replied, still pretty shocked.

McGonagall eyed him carefully, like Hermione would do when he lied to her.

"I don't think you understood," McGonagall stated, strictly, "I called you here, for you to tell me why. It wasn't a question."

Harry stared at her, still unsure of what to say.

"I just-" Harry said, confused, "I just kinda- you know."

"Brilliant answer," McGonagall said, sarcastically and rolling her eyes, "the material can't be harder because we're not learning new things, just reviewing. Now, does this have anything to do with the loss of the Quidditch match?"

"I don't know," Harry replied, still slightly confused, "it might be, but I honestly don't know."

Harry had an idea, it was lack of food, but it did have a something to do with the Quidditch loss, causing him to have a short attention span. But he wasn't going to tell anyone, especially McGonagall.

"Very well," McGonagall stated, slightly giving up.

Harry started to rise from his chair.

"Not so fast, Potter," McGonagall stated, looking at him hard, then Harry slowly sat back down, "I also wanted to tell you this, in behalf of Quidditch, the next match is February 8th."

It was weird, Harry's heart jumped, but his stomach lurched uncomfortably.

"Oh," Harry said, nervous, "thank you, Professor!"

"And also," McGonagall said to him, sadness in her eyes again, or maybe even pity, "Ginny Weasley informed me the other day that the reason you couldn't catch the snitch was because you were ill."

Harry's heart plummeted, he felt slightly angry at Ginny, he felt pretty betrayed.

"You do know that if you ever feel ill," she continued, "that Ms. Weasley will be glad to take care of the team, that's why she's co-captain."

"Well, yeah," Harry said, slightly annoyed and choosing his words carefully, "I was sick before the match, though. Like two weeks before."

"Sickness is always strange," McGonagall stated, sighing, "I understand if it just suddenly came back."

"And last thing before you go," she added, before Harry could bolt up from his seat again, "I've noticed you've lost a lot of weight."

Harry's insides shriveled up and went cold. If Harry's heart had plummeted before, now it was going through the ground.

"It's from Quidditch," Harry lied quickly, now just coming up with a story, "I've just been exercising a lot, training and stuff."

"Well, like I said a while back," McGonagall stated, her voice softening, "if it's doing this effect on you, you could do well with some relaxation."

"Thanks, Professor," Harry replied, just wanting to flat out leave now.

"It's alright, Potter," McGonagall said, smiling, writing a note for him, "here's a note for your next class, and you may leave."

Harry took the note and raised up from his seat, said goodbye and then he raced down to his next class.

__________

It was now late November.

Harry somehow always felt freezing.

Him, Ron, and Hermione were all on their way to lunch, and Harry was starving and couldn't wait to stuff his mouth with food, then, of course, throw it back up.

"So, when's the next practice?" Ron asked, as they walked inside the Great Hall.

"Well, today I'm going to go running for about five kilometers," Harry replied as they sat down, "but the next practice could be, maybe in two weeks or so."

"Blimey, Harry!" Ron exclaimed, shocked, "you've gone running everyday for the month! Aren't you tired?"

"Not really," Harry replied, "I like running," it wasn't completely true. He was sick of running but he had to do it, for Quidditch.

"Ron, you should go with Harry," Hermione said, drinking her pumpkin juice.

Ron barked out in laughter, "oh Hermione, you crack me up."

Hermione rolled her eyes and her and Harry laughed too.

They all ate their dinner and then Harry said goodbye to Ron and Hermione for now.

Harry set off to the Quidditch pitch, and then went into the bathroom and locked it.

He knew the drill, stink your fingers down your throat and throw up, then flush the toilet, and lastly check for stray marks, which was disgusting.

Lately, his throwing up habit had been a bit less controlled but Harry pushed that thought to the back of his head.

Then, Harry went down to the pitch, where he ran around.

He calculated that once around the pitch was equalled to a kilometer, so everyday he ran around it five times.

As he ran Harry thought to himself, it was a good pastime.

Alone with your thoughts was normally where all the terrible ideas came from.

That's when Harry decided he needed a goal, as he ran around the pitch, bored out of his mind.

A goal to make me stay determined in Quidditch, he thought.

It needed to be something only he could control, so no one could manipulate it.

His weight.

Harry's goal was to be less than 120 pounds by the next Quidditch match, which was until February 8th.

In fact, Harry didn't even know how much he weighed right now, but he decided that the time he stood on a scale to determine his weight would be the day before the match.

Harry was running his final round, and though it was a great idea.

Less than 120 pounds when February comes, that isn't so bad, he thought.

It was getting dark. After he finished the lap, he set off back to the castle

Harry was so exhausted when he returned to his dormitory.

"Hey Harry!" Ron called, waving at him as he came into the common room, he was sitting with Hermione and Ginny, "we're about to play Exploding Snap, if you want to join!"

"No thanks, Ron," Harry said, panting but smiling too, "I just ran like five kilometers, I'm quite exhausted. Maybe tomorrow, though."

Then Harry walked up the stairs slowly and closed the door.

Poor Harry collapsed on his bed and fell asleep right there...

The next day, after dinner, Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked down to the entrance of the castle.

"Harry, aren't you exhausted?" Ron asked, confused, "you go and run every single day and then you come back and you're so tired you go to sleep right then?"

"Well, yeah," Harry replied, trying to come up with the best excuse, "I'm trying to get in shape for Quidditch."

"Er- okay then," Ron responded, eyeing him suspiciously, then he turned with Hermione to go back to the common room.

"Come on, Ron, you should go with him one day!" Hermione's voice exclaimed from across the hall while Harry went to the pitch, threw up his food, and then continued to run his kilometers, adding one more everyday.

Then, Harry came back to the common room, and went straight to bed again.

__________

"Oh, come on!" Ron exclaimed, angrily, "it's literally raining and storming outside and you still want to go and run?"

"Yeah," Harry replied, not sure why Ron was so angry.

It was the time of the year when there was mud and leaves everywhere and when it rained, it rained hard. Plus, it was freezing outside everyday.

Hermione was about to say something, but then Ron interrupted her, rolling his eyes, "no, Hermione, I'm not going to go jog in the rain with him."

It had been about week, and he'd gone running everyday since then, adding kilometers every time, too.

"I'm not making you come with me, Ron," Harry replied, slightly agitated, "I don't know why you're so angry all the sudden."

"Look, mate," Ron stated, irritated, "you can do whatever you want, but this is getting ridiculous. I mean, running in a damn storm?"

"Well, I'm going to do it," Harry said, eyes narrowed and getting up from his seat, "so I'll see you guys later."

Harry walked quickly from the Great Hall.

It was raining pretty bad, but he went to the pitch anyway.

Harry purged out his food, and then went running as usual, adding another kilometer, though.

So today was about eight or nine kilometers that Harry ran.

His hair was soaking wet and all the rain was starting to flood, making really hard to run.

And to make it worse, there was mud and leaves everywhere.

Harry ran his final lap really fast and then headed start back to the common room.

Harry came inside soaking wet and trailing mud everywhere, but he could care less.

Hermione, Ginny, and Ron were all sitting in the common room, drinking butterbeers.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, Harry knew she was going to say something, "you're soaking!"

"I know, I'm going to go shower real quick," Harry said, hurriedly, and he ran upstairs to the showers.

"He works too hard," Ron stated, flatly and shaking his head, "he's mental to have even thought about running in a storm like that!"

"I don't even want to think about what he's going to have the team do for practice," Ginny stated, her eyes wide, "he's going to be the next Oliver Wood, waking the team up at four in the morning for practice."

"No, I don't think so," Hermione responded, taking a sip of her butterbeer, "he's just making himself work hard, there's barely even been any team practices."

Ginny hummed in agreement, but that thought just made Ron more uneasy.

The next day, Harry woke up to Ron hitting him with a pillow.

"Harry- for Merlin's sake- wake up!"

Harry woke up and groaned.

"Okay, okay, I'm coming," Harry said, grumpily and getting out of his bed.

He dressed and went downstairs, and then him, Ron, and Hermione all went to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Ron put his food on his plate and began eating it while Hermione did the same.

Harry ate his breakfast like he normally did, passing as someone normal actually.

But today was different.

Harry barely ate a piece of toast when he felt the throw up coming up his throat, which was really abnormal because he hadn't triggered it.

Harry slammed down the fork and ran out of the Great Hall into the nearest bathroom.

He reached the stall and vomited inside the toilet and flushed it really quick.

Then Harry ran out of the stall and whispered the cleansing incantation as Ron came inside.

"Mate, are you alright?" Ron asked, concerned looking at Harry.

"Oh yeah, I'm fine," Harry replied, quickly, "I just thought I saw Malfoy and I thought he was going to do something." he finished lamely, and mentally cursing at himself for such a stupid lie.

"Uh, okay," Ron replied, eyeing him, "well, do you want to go back to the Great Hall?"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry said, knowing Ron didn't really believe him, "let's go."

Hermione glared at Harry with a concerned look on her face, "are you alright? What happened?" She asked, when Harry and Ron sat back down.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry said, uneasy, "I just thought I saw Malfoy and you know- I didn't really want to see what he had in store for me today."

"Um, okay Harry," Hermione replied, eyeing him like Ron did, "are you going to eat anything?"

"No, I already ate," Harry said, still nervous he wasn't getting away with anything.

"Harry, you hardly even ate a piece of toast," Hermione stated, flatly, "are you sure you're not hungry?"

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry responded, uneasy, "I'm okay, I swear."

Ron and Hermione looked at him a bit uneasy which made Harry extra uneasy.

__________

Harry knew he couldn't eat anything in front of Ron and Hermione.

He knew that if he did, his bulimia would cause him to throw it back up immediately.

So, he blamed not going to the Great Hall for any meals on Draco Malfoy.

While in reality, Harry ate all the food he had stored in his boxes under his bed for his meals, which he found out were enchanted and never really ran out, and then went to the dorm bathroom and to throw it up.

He felt horrible, but now he had to run less laps and run faster so he could spend more time with Ron and Hermione, they complained to him that since he wouldn't come to meals, they hardly saw each other.

So now, about a week later, Harry was playing Exploding Snap with Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

And as soon as the game ended, they had Quidditch practice.

So Harry, Ron, and Ginny said goodbye to Hermione while they went to go down to the pitch and she went to the library, obviously.

"So are we just going to play a game of Quidditch?" Ginny asked Harry, as they went down to the pitch.

"Basically," Harry replied, "we'll just throw some quaffles and bludgers around so the chasers and keeper can practice and the beaters too, and I'll watch for a while then go practice for seeker."

"Oh okay," Ginny responded, they walked inside the dressing rooms, and the other Gryffindors were there already.

"Alright!" Harry shouted over the chatter, "so today, we're just going to throw the quaffles and bludgers around so the keeper and chasers practice together and the beaters can practice too. I'll watch but then practice as seeker also."

Some of the team muttered a 'yes' while some others just nodded.

Then they all went to the field to practice.

__________

"Alright, so I think practice did us good," Harry stated, after practice to the team, "I think that next practice will be after the holidays as I see that holidays start in a week, so I hope you guys have a merry Christmas and I'll see you all when we come back!"

Some of them came up to Harry to wish him a merry Christmas too while Ron and Ginny waited for him to get done.

They then walked together back to the castle.

"So, how'd it go?" Hermione asked them as they came inside the common room.

"Alright, though I think we should be having more practices," Ginny replied, glaring at Harry.

"Listen, I would, really, but holidays start in a week, so either only half the team will be here or none," Harry told Ginny, a bit coldly.

"Okay, whatever," Ginny said, going up to her dormitory.

"What time is it?" Harry asked, as he sat down on the couch.

"About 9:00, why?" Hermione replied, glancing at her watch.

"I'm just pretty tired that's all," Harry said, yawning.

"We have an exam tomorrow," Ron said, glancing at Hermione and Harry, "and the essay for Snape is due tomorrow also."

"It's okay," Harry responded, "I'm really tired, I'll just head to bed."

Harry raised up from the couch and went to his dormitory as Ron and Hermione stared at him.

He shut the door and laid on his bed.

They were getting suspicious, especially Ron, surprisingly. And Harry knew it.

And with that thought Harry drifted to sleep...

Harry was standing in the middle of a room.

It was dark all around him, just light where he was.

As Harry was about to shout for help, a tall figure came into view some meters away, and then light absorbed the whole room.

It was Sirius.

The tall figure was Sirius!

Harry grinned so widely, wider than he had done in a long, long time.

"Forgotten about me, have you?" Sirius' voice sneered, glaring angrily at Harry. Harry's smile had disappeared.

"Sirius, no, I haven't," Harry said, desperately, "I would never forget about you!"

"You have," Sirius replied, fury in his eyes, "your priority isn't me, it's that damn game!"

"No it's not!" Harry pleaded, his voice sounding so desperate, "it's always been you, not Quidditch, that's just a lie, Sirius!"

"Oh really?" Sirius shouted, furiously, "have you been starving for me? Throwing up for me? Cutting for me?"

"Yes, yes I have!" Harry shouted, tears moistening in his eyes, pleading and begging, "please Sirius! I have, really, I have!"

"You mean you were!" Sirius roared at Harry, fury all in his face, "you haven't been doing it for me at all lately! Just for Quidditch!"

"No, please," Harry pleaded, crying now, "please! I have, I have, I have!"

"Then prove it!" Sirius bellowed at Harry, kicking him in the stomach and making him cry out, "don't be selfish! Prove it!"

"I will, I will," Harry whispered, crying and almost giving into darkness.

"You won't deserve help unless you have done something for the ones you've caused pain," Sirius hissed, something that Harry wouldn't had ever thought come out of Sirius' mouth, then, Sirius kicked him in his face, and Harry gave into darkness.

Harry awoke shaking, and then immediately started to cry.

Sirius was right, Harry was being selfish in thinking about Quidditch while he should be thinking about those that he had caused pain, like Sirius.

"Accio potions knife," Harry whispered, holding his hand out, and then he felt a hard handle grasped into his palm.

Harry started to feel his breathe get shorter, and then he ran to the bathroom.

Harry shut the door and started to shake almost uncontrollably, and his breathing got shorter as he started to hyperventilate.

He rolled up his sleeve and cut his skin, but it was deep so it started bleeding everywhere.

Panicking, Harry grabbed a towel and knocked a bottle of shampoo over with it.

Oh shit, Harry thought.

Then as he expected, someone opened the door to the bathroom and that someone was Ron.

"Harry?" Ron said, shocked at what he was seeing, Harry holding a knife and a towel and his sleeve rolled up and bleeding.

"Ron," Harry whispered, not knowing what to say.

"Did you-?" Ron began to ask, confused, "did you do this to yourself?"

"Ron, listen-"

"You did!" Ron shouted, his eyes wide.

"Please, just listen!" Harry shouted, panicking, "I just- it was-"

"It wasn't an accident," Ron stated, angry, "don't even try to say it was! You've been having panic attacks at nights too, haven't you?"

Harry stared at Ron, trying not to cry because he'd been caught.

"Haven't you!" Ron shouted, his face expressing gloom.

"Yes! Okay? I have!" Harry responded, uneasy.

"I heard you shaking and hyperventilating, I knew it," Ron said, slightly calmed down now.

Harry continued to stare at him, green eyes pouring into blue.

"Don't tell anyone about this, Ron," Harry said, strictly but panicking, "especially Hermione."

Ron just looked at him for a moment, and then he finally said, "I won't," after that he added, "but I want to know one thing."

"Yeah? What?" Harry asked, just feeling himself getting panicked.

"Tell me the truth, and I'll know if your lying," Ron snapped, "I want to know if you really sick that time I saw you throwing up."

"Can I just-?"

"No!" Ron shouted, getting angry again, "tell me now, or I will tell Hermione!"

Harry gulped, and then he decided to do it. He felt as if he'd start crying right there, in front of Ron.

"Okay," Harry started, "please don't get angry at me, I-I," he hesitated but then said it, "I made myself sick."

Ron stared at Harry, completely shocked.

"Why?" Ron asked, slightly angry again but concern all in his voice, "why would you make yourself sick?"

Harry's felt the lump in his throat and his eyes get hot and prickly.

The white hot anger bubbled in his blood, and he could feel himself fuming and outraged.

"Because I was tired!" Harry shouted, his voice shaking the room, hot angry tears coming into his eyes, "I was tired of feeling nauseous! I was tired of starving myself! I was tired of feeling guilty!"

Ron just stared at Harry, horror in his eyes.

Harry started to cry, impatiently shoving away the tears.

"So you have an eating disorder," Ron said, blankly.

"Yeah," Harry replied, embarrassed of his outburst and his crying, "I guess I do."

"So, why don't you stop?" Ron asked, furrowing his brows.

"I-I don't know," Harry replied, staring at Ron.

"Okay," Ron replied, gesturing his hands, "so you've had this for how long?"

"Since the summer," Harry said, uneasy.

Ron's face turned in fury and he slammed his fist into the mirror in rage.

The mirror burst and pieces flew on the ground, while Ron just stood there. Harry didn't know how to react.

"Since the summer?" Ron exclaimed, fury in his face, "and I-I didn't notice? You've been sick since the summer and I-I'm sitting here just watching you kill yourself!" sadness took the fury in his eyes.

"Don't blame yourself, Ron," Harry said, feeling horrible, "this- all this was me, don't blame yourself."

"No!" Ron shouted and slamming his fist into the already broken mirror, he turned to face Harry, "I could have stopped you! I could have done anything! I m-mean, you were just in here having panic attacks and cutting yourself since probably the summer! And I've been too stupid to notice!"

Harry's heart ached, he knew how Ron felt, feeling as if responsible for someone's pain.

"Well, not anymore!" Ron continued to shout, red in the face, "we're going to make a deal, mate!"

"O-okay," Harry replied, scared of Ron and what he was going to do.

"Either you start being normal again," Ron said, in furious tone but a lot quieter, "or I will tell Hermione and Madame Promfrey and Dumbledore."

Harry's heart sank, he knew it was too late to stop, his bulimia was uncontrollable and so were is panic attacks and he had to cut for them to end. So Harry just lied.

"Deal," he whispered, weakly.

Ron stared at him coldly and then added, "and you have to start eating with me and Hermione back in the Great Hall."

Panic flared inside Harry, if that happened, Harry's secret definitely wouldn't last.

But he said it anyway, he didn't want Ron to he couldn't stop, "deal," he said, even weaker than the last time.

"Good," Ron replied, looking determined, and then he turned around from the bathroom, and Harry just stood there, with a towel on his arm, and then he followed.

Harry didn't sleep that night, and he bet that Ron didn't, either.

Ron knew his secret, Ron had the power to make him stop, well not really.

He did have the power to make adults and Hermione come after him though, even force him into treatment.

What was he going to do? Throw up in the Great Hall?

Then he got it.

Harry didn't think this was going to work for long but it might.

Harry could eat all his food last minute, and then go throw up in the restroom and make a charm appear that made him seem like he was using the restroom, disguising the fact that he was throwing up.

Hope flared inside Harry, he needed it to make him seem like he was peeing, and his feet upright, while he wasn't really, he needed an illusional charm.

Harry smiled, this just might work...

__________

For the past week, Harry had been eating in the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione, and then going through with his plan.

Ron was eyeing him suspiciously when he ate, then when Harry would go use the restroom, Ron would go too. Making Hermione a little suspicious but she dropped it pretty quickly.

Ron would 'wash his hands' while Harry threw up, the charm making it seem as if he was just peeing.

Then Harry would come out and wash his hands, then they would leave.

But today was the first day of winter break, and Ron and Hermione had insisted on staying at Hogwarts with Harry. Ginny had been kinda forced to go back home, even Ron too but he wrote letters insisting on him staying.

Which annoyed Harry to no end, but he did feel grateful to know they weren't going to just abandon him.

This made things a lot easier though, the meals were all day so he could just come at any time for food, and the times Ron and Hermione caught him going out to eat food, they tagged along. But it was fine with Harry, because the charm was really working up to his expectations.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione did spend a lot more time together, just walking around the castle, going to the library, even practicing Quidditch and trying to get Hermione into the game.

Harry admit it. He had really missed the times that he didn't have an eating disorder to control or cuts on his arms to worry about being seen or being caught at night with a panic attack. He had missed Ron and Hermione the most, though.

But then about a week later, it was early January now, Ron's mother owled him and insisted he spent time with his family, since they were there and it had taken Charlie and Bill a lot to come home for the holidays.

And then, Hermione's parents lettered her too. Asking her to come home because they both had earned a spot on Christmas Day and more days to spend time with her, and that she would be back at Hogwarts after their break was over.

Ron did ask Harry if he wanted to come also, but Harry knew he was interfering with his family time and politely declined and told him that he could go, and that it was completely fine.

And when Hermione and Ron left, both feeling extremely guilty for leaving Harry there by himself and reassuring him that they would be back in a week, after holidays was over, Harry was alone.

Harry now had the whole dormitory to himself, and he used it in the best way he could. Harry spent all his days in there binging and purging.

One night, Harry didn't sleep at all.

Harry had ate and ate all that night, eating enormous amounts of cereal and cookies and chocolate, and way more food.

Feeling his bulimia starting to kick in, Harry ran into the bathroom, nearly hitting head with the door.

Harry retched inside the toilet seat, feeling his throat might catch on fire.

When he finished, he flushed and cast the cleansing charm, for basically no reason because he was the only one sleeping in the dorm since everyone else was at home for the holidays.

Then, the cycle started again.

Harry ate more and more food, just to run to the stall in time to throw it up.

He did this until it was 6 in the morning, and Harry was throwing up again, this time crying.

He knew he couldn't stop, this was living hell. Harry felt more bile come up his throat and he vomited again, and started crying again.

The knowledge was too much, too overwhelming. Knowing that he couldn't stop, and there was no way of controlling this, once miracle, and now disease he desperately just wanted to go away.

He wished that he'd had listened to Hermione, not to starve yourself, where this mess had all started.

Harry finally stopped throwing up, and felt his head ache with pain, and also his throat.

Harry was finally sick of this.

He fell onto his bed and closed his eyes, not having slept that night because of the episodes.

Then as he suspected it to happen, Harry had woken up in cold sweat again because of another nightmare, reliving the moments of Sirius' death.

Yeah, yeah, I know the damn drill, Harry thought.

Harry had already gotten up from his bed and walked to the bathroom where he shut himself inside, he had sensed a panic attack.

And Harry waited, he waited for the shaking and the hyperventilating and the cutting to all start again.

And it did, Harry started to shake and felt his breathe get shorter, the Harry, who now always has his potions knife in his robes pocket, rolled up his sleeve and cut over the several old and new cuts on his arm.

Then after, Harry stuck a towel up his arm impatiently and then head straight back to sleep...

This was how he spent the rest of his vacation, binging and purging, then his panic attacks, and then his cutting.

Harry felt horrible, he had broken his promise to Ron.

But Ron will never find out, Harry thought to himself, plus it's not like I can control this.

And then as fast as the week came and went, the last day of the holiday came around and Ron and Hermione came back.

"Harry!" Hermione shouted when she saw him, waiting for them both out by the entrance door, "how are you?"

"Great," Harry said, smiling but lying, "what about you guys? How was your holidays?"

"Good!" Hermione replied, walking with Harry and Ron back into the common room, "mum and dad were both free on the weekend so we went fishing!"

"Mine was good too, I guess," Ron said, as they walked inside the common room and sat down, "the whole family was over, and I saw Bill and Charlie, which was great because I hadn't seen them since last Christmas."

And they just sat there and talked, just sitting there with his friends as they asked how he had been and made Harry feel cared for. And for the first time in a long time, it made him smile, a lot.

__________

About a week and a half later, everything has gone back to how it was.

Well, not everything, Harry's magic was extremely weak, so he wasn't able to hide his eating disorder very well.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione ate in the great hall as always. Harry had his plan in the back of head.

They ate, and Harry went to the bathroom as usual and Ron followed.

Then, Harry shut the stall door and proceeded to do his charm.

He whispered it, and a small, extremely small whisk of magic came out of his wand, not doing anything.

Then, Harry tried again, it was a bit stronger but not by much. But Harry decided it'd do for now.

So he continued to retch into the toilet until he heard the faucet, which Ron was using, stop running the water.

But he couldn't stop, so he continued to throw up, then he stopped and flushed the toilet quickly, then Harry turned from the toilet and walked out of the stall.

Ron was staring at him, a mix of confusion and suspicion look on his face. Harry proceeded to wash his hands like nothing happened.

He knows, Harry though to himself trying not to panic, he knows something's up, he knows that your charm wasn't convincing.

Then, Harry looked at Ron, who still looked confused.

"What?" Harry asked, putting a look of confusion on his own face, to match Ron's.

Ron continued to stare at Harry in disbelief, then he added, "nothing, just-" then he sighed, "never mind, it's nothing."

"Er, okay," Harry responded, keeping his fake confused look, and walking out of the bathroom as Ron followed.

It was things like that, that made Harry feel extremely paranoid and uneasy.

For example, about a couple days later, Harry was eating some soup in the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione.

His stomach was twisting and turning, feeling as if it was going to burst.

And his head started to feel really nauseous.

Hermione stopped eating and stared at him, "Harry, are you alright?"

He couldn't take it anymore, Harry ran out of the Great Hall, and ran into the bathroom.

Harry didn't make in time to go into the stall, he threw up in the sink.

Feeling bad, he turned it on and splashed the water around to make the sink clean again.

Then, it was finally clean and Ron came bursting into the bathroom. Harry quickly splashed water in his face to make it look like he was doing something other than throwing up.

"Mate?" Ron asked, concern in his face, "are you alright?"

"Yeah, yeah," Harry replied, splashing more water on his face, "the soup was making me feel bad, that's all."

Ron raised his eyebrow, "so you're splashing water on your face?"

"Uh, yeah," Harry said, awkwardly, "it makes me feel better," he added lamely.

"Okay," Ron replied, confused, then he scrunched his nose, "ugh! It reeks in here!"

Harry's heart plummeted, he forgot to do the cleansing spell.

Ron's disgust turned into suspension fast, and he looked at Harry in a hard expression.

Harry felt panic boil in his blood.

"Did you-?"

Then, someone knocked on the door. Ron paused.

Hermione peeked inside, "Harry? Is everything okay?" She stumbled on the door for a second, Ron was about to say something but she interrupted, "yes, I know it's the boy's bathroom, I know, so it might be easier for you two to come out here."

Ron gave Harry a last suspicious look, and they both walked out of the bathroom.

"Is everything alright?" She asked, concern in her face, Harry felt bad that she didn't know the truth.

"Yeah," Harry said, feeling guilty for lying, "it's fine, the soup made me nauseous, that's all."

Hermione looked up at Ron with a questioning look on her face.

"Yeah," Ron said, rolling his eyes, and looking pissed off, "everything's just great."

Harry felt a ping of anger at Ron. He was making it seem really obvious!

But then Harry remembered he did break his promise, and the feeling of anger was replaced by guilt.

"Okay..." Hermione replied, not looking convinced.

"Let's go," Ron said quickly, already starting to leave.

Hermione glanced at Harry, and Harry shrugged. They both followed him.

Harry was panicked, Ron knew now. He had the power to tell Hermione and only God knows what power Hermione has.

Feeling extremely paranoid, stressed, and uneasy, Harry walked with Hermione and Ron back to class.

__________

For the next week, Harry completely tried to avoid Ron.

And by doing so, instead of going to meals as much, he usually ate his stack of food up in his dormitory, threw up, and then went to go jog outside.

It was obvious Ron wasn't pleased by this, he knew Harry was just going to run so he would have an excuse not to be around him so much.

And Hermione was obviously upset by this, they hardly ever saw Harry anymore. Either because he was ignoring them so they wouldn't get more suspicious, or because he hardly even going down to meals with them anymore.

Harry used his running to kill two birds with one stone, one to avoid the chances of getting caught, and two to practice extra for Quidditch.

The match was nearing fast, and Harry was exercising and throwing up a lot more. His goal was extremely important to him.

It was nearing the end of January, and Harry was panicky.

After his run, Harry came back inside to the castle.

He grabbed a big piece of parchment, and in big bold letters he wrote:

NEXT QUIDDITCH PRACTICE: JANUARY 31ST

Harry looked at it, the practice was about week away.

Then, he grabbed the paper and set off to the common room.

Harry said the password, and he walked inside, to find a bunch of other Gryffindors, including Ron, Hermione, and Ginny.

Harry glanced at them quickly, then proceeded to the bulletin board, where he pinned the huge paper.

He turned around to leave, and Hermione, Ron, and Ginny was right in front of him.

"Going somewhere?" Ginny asked, darkly.

"Yeah," Harry replied, trying to make short conversation.

Out of nowhere, Hermione gave out a small howl of misery.

Harry stared at her, while Ron and Ginny did too, in surprise and slight shock.

"Oh, don't act like I'm the only one!" Hermione exclaimed, to Ginny and Ron, then added, "Harry, you look so... tired!"

Harry was shocked, where did this conversation even come from?

"Harry, why don't you eat with us in the Great Hall anymore?" Hermione asked, clearly upset.

Harry hesitated, then said, "I've been training for Quidditch."

"Quidditch my ass!" Shouted Ginny, her face red with anger, "why don't you stop lying and tell us the truth!"

Harry gave Ron a quick angry glance, starting to think he had told him, but he quickly shook his head. Harry decided to trust Ron.

"I'm not lying," Harry replied back, angrily, "all I'm doing, is doing what a captain should do!"

"Oh really?" Ginny exclaimed, aggressively, "I don't think you could train for Quidditch while nearly running yourself to the ground!"

"Actually, I can," Harry said, in a dangerous tone, face getting red, "just because you can't take it, doesn't mean I can't!"

"Take it? Take it?" Ginny shouted, in fury.

Ron and Hermione glanced at each other. They started to slowly walk away from the scene, leaving Harry and Ginny alone.

"Yeah, that's what I said," Harry replied, irritated and angrily, "I'm strong, I can take a little exhaustion."

"Oh, shut your goddamn mouth, Harry Potter!" Ginny screeched furious, and scaring Harry, "if you call this little exhaustion- you look dead! You look like you've haven't sleep in weeks! And if I have to add, you look as if you haven't eaten in weeks either!"

Harry felt his face heat up with anger, he stared at Ginny in a hard furious expression, "let me tell you something Ginny, I'm doing this for the good of our Quidditch team-!"

"Oh, the good?" Ginny shouted, so angry that the rest of Gryffindors just stared at her and some of them started to slowly go up back to their dorms, "that's funny, because last time I checked, we've literally only had two, or if we're lucky, three practices!"

"I think I'm know what I'm doing!" Harry exclaimed back, "last time I checked I'm the captain! Not you, Ginny!"

"And I'm the co-captain!" Ginny exclaimed back, "which means, when the captain is doing something wrong, the co-captain comes in!"

"I'm not doing anything wrong!" Harry shouted back, feeling his throat starting to hurt.

"That's because you don't have eyes," Ginny said, dangerously lowering her voice, actually scaring Harry more than her yelling, "you don't see yourself, Harry." she added.

Harry looked at Ginny, her fury was gone, but was replaced with a terrible sadness. Guilt swarmed inside him.

"Talk to me when you're feeling better," she added, gloomily.

Ginny turned and went towards to the girl's dormitory, leaving Harry by himself in the common room.

__________

The week slowly went along.

Harry was scared of being in the same room as Ginny, but at the same time, really wanted to tell her about his problems, she seemed like she could really help...

And he wanted to tell Hermione too. She would help loads.

And even talk to Ron about it. Harry desperately wanted to let him know that he didn't mean to break his promise, he couldn't control this as he used to. But knew that would risk a lot talking to them. But Harry missed his friends.

Harry walked inside the Great Hall with his Quidditch gear on, he had just finished eating his dinner in his dormitory, then he threw it up of course.

"Ready?" He said to Ron, and Ron looked surprisingly at Harry, who he didn't expect to wait for him, and then he nodded and smiled.

They waved bye to Hermione and then walked outside together in silence.

Harry was a little scared that Ron was going to confront him, but luckily, he didn't.

They just walked in silence until they reached the pitch, where everyone was already there.

"Alright!" Harry shouted, when the team calmed down, "it's been a while, but we're going to do the same thing as we did last time! Okay, let's go!"

They walked out to the field with their brooms and mounted. Then they set off flying.

Ginny and the rest of the chasers practiced trying to score the quaffle into one of the hoops Ron was guarding, while the beaters practiced swinging their bats to the bludgers.

Harry released the snitch and kinda played around with it, catching it around ten minutes in.

After about an hour and a half, Harry blew his whistle and the team started flying back down to the ground.

"Great work!" Harry exclaimed, cheerfully, "I'm happy this ended so well, really good work guys! I think we'll have Ravenclaw to the ground this game at this rate!"

People chattered around happily.

"I'm going to see if we can fit another practice in before the match, which is in about a week from now," Harry said, clapping his hands together, "well, yet again, really good work today!"

The team thanked him and some clapped him on the back, while Ron stayed waiting for him, and Ginny sitting on a bench.

"Ron, you go on," Ginny said, all the sudden, "I need to talk to Harry about the game, we'll see you back in the common room."

"Okay," Ron replied, slightly confused, "well, I'll see ya," then turning to leave.

Ginny looked at Harry, gesturing him to bench with her. Harry came and sat down next to her.

"Listen Ginny, I'm really sorry about what I said the other day," Harry said, softly, "I know you were just trying to help."

"Yeah, it's fine," Ginny replied, her voice low, "just forget about it."

"Okay, so what about the game did you want to talk to me about?" Harry asked.

"That's actually not what I came to talk to you about," Ginny said, sighing, "I just said that to get Ron to leave, I didn't think you'd want him to hear me asking this."

"What?" Harry responded, confused.

"Okay, well," Ginny started, looking a bit uneasy, "how have you been?"

The question threw Harry off. That was what she wanted to ask him?

"Uh, good I guess," Harry replied, even more confused.

"McGonagall wanted me to tell you this," she added before she continued, Harry nodded his head, "listen, if you don't feel good to play this match, I can play it, it'll be totally fine-"

"I feel fine," Harry said, quickly and irritably.

"I know, it's just a suggestion," Ginny replied, looking annoyed, "but really, if you don't feel okay, give me a call."

"Uh okay," he replied, lost for words.

"Now, Harry," Ginny whispered, surprising him by the change of her tone, which went from slight annoyance to sadness, "please don't lie to me."

Harry looked up to her eyes, they were full of sadness. A pang of guilt hit him.

"Are you really okay?" She asked, her voice slightly cracking.

Harry didn't respond, he couldn't lie to her face, and he knew he couldn't tell her the truth.

"You're so pale, Harry," she continued in a pleading tone, "and so thin, I never see you in the Great Hall anymore. Ron, Hermione, and I miss you."

Harry just looked down, it would be easier to lie when he wasn't looking in her eyes.

"I'm fine," he responded, his voice shaky, "I just- need a break. I'm kinda stressed out from the match but after it's over, I'll go back to how I was."

"Okay," Ginny replied, starting to stand up, "I'm glad you're alright."

Harry stood up too, and then Ginny turned to leave from the pitch, and Harry followed her out.

He felt the pang of guilt grow bigger.

They walked back in silence to the common room, where they parted and said their goodbyes.

Harry spotted Hermione reading alone on the couch, and felt another pang of guilt go to his heart.

"Hey," he said, his voice scratchy, sitting down beside her.

"Hey," Hermione replied, flipping her page.

There was a comfortable silence, Hermione just read and flip the pages of her book while Harry sat beside her.

"What book is that?" Harry asked, breaking the silence.

"Er-" Hermione folded the corner of her page and closed the book, "I'm rereading a book about the consequences of the improper care of plants, it actually doesn't have a title, isn't that strange? Well, anyway, I borrowed it from the library-"

"Obviously," Harry said, laughing a little.

She laughed too, "well, it's difficult to buy it personally if it doesn't have a title."

"I bet," Harry replied, "hey, do you know where Ron is?" suddenly remembering telling him that he'd meet him in the common room.

"He's in the dormitory," Hermione answered.

"Oh okay," Harry said, starting to stand, "well, I'm really tired, so goodnight Hermione."

"Goodnight Harry," she replied, picking her book up again and starting to read it.

Harry walked up to the dormitory, yawning already, then he opened the door.

Ron was sitting on his bed, and groaned when he saw Harry.

"It's about time you showed up!" Ron exclaimed, irritated, "I've been waiting forever!"

Then, before Harry could question him, Ron waved him wand and the door made a locking noise.

"What-?" Harry started to ask, confusion in his face.

"Yeah, I know, I know," Ron said, holding his hand up and getting up from his bed, "but I want answers."

Harry stared at him.

"Yeah, I haven't forgotten about your little incident the other day in the bathroom," Ron said, softly.

"Incident-?" Harry asked, panicky.

"Don't even try to lie," Ron said, fiercely, "I know you've been throwing up behind my back this whole time."

Harry felt a sword of ice being thrusted into his heart. Ron knew, he knew. Now Ron would abandon him, like Sirius did.

"Ron-" Harry said, feeling himself getting shaky and his eyes prickly, "I-I didn't mean to. I-"

Ron held his hand, "it's fine, I know you can't really help it."

Harry stared at Ron, trying so hard not to let the tears fall from his eyes.

So Harry just nodded, "yeah."

"I knew when your illusion charms started wearing off, because your magic is all weak right? I'm not surprised with everything you're doing," Ron said, staring at the ground and surprising Harry with his knowledge, "and every time we ate, you'd go to the bathroom. And ever since you got sick in the bathroom and stopped eating in the Great Hall, Hermione's started to get the vibes too, you know."

Ron looked up from the ground and cracked a weak smile, "maybe you don't have to go through this all alone, mate."

Harry's felt a lump form in his throat, and embarrassingly covered his face in his hands.

"I can't stop it," Harry said full with misery, his voice cracking mid sentence, "I try and I try, but it never stops-" Harry couldn't continue, and felt the hot tears land on his hands, as he covered his face with them. He tried desperately not to cry out.

"It's okay," Ron said, softly, "we can still get you help."

Harry froze and felt more misery come to him. He couldn't get help, he needed this. It was his way to cope with Sirius' death and everything else. And if he got help, his way of coping would be stopped, and plus, his panic attacks and cuts would be revealed too. He didn't even want to imagine everyone's reactions. And his goal, his goal was still so important to him.

"No," Harry said, removing his face from his hands, and wiping his tears impatiently.

"You're joking!" Ron shouted, throwing his hands in the air, "look at you, Harry! You're practically skin and bones-"

"I don't want help," Harry said, shaking, "I don't need help."

"This is what confuses me!" Ron bellowed, irritated, "you say you can't stop and you're miserable about it, then you say you don't want help?" Ron paused and then continued with a sad tone, "don't you want to be happy?"

Harry paused, he didn't need happiness, nor deserve it.

"I don't deserve it, Ron," Harry said, surprisingly calm.

"You don't deserve it?" Ron said, outraged, "what are you talking about? In my opinion, you're the person who deserves it most!"

"No," Harry said, shaking his head, "I don't deserve it, I killed Sirius. How could a murderer possibly ever deserve happiness?"

Ron was shocked, he stared at Harry in disbelief, "how can you say that!" He bellowed, his face beat red, "you're not a murderer, Harry. I don't know where this idea even came from, I-"

Then that's when Ron finally understood, he lowered his voice and looked at Harry, his red face becoming dangerously pale.

"You're doing this so you can cope," Ron said, flatly, not even questioning it but stating it as though it was an answer, "you're doing this because you feel guilty for Sirius' death."

Harry hesitated and then simply nodded.

Ron looked at Harry, Harry had never seen Ron look so sad.

"So how are your panic attacks going?" Ron asked, obviously trying not to cry, "are they better?"

Harry couldn't lie, he couldn't.

"Not good," Harry said, tracing his hair with his fingers.

"Oh," Ron replied, becoming red in the face and his eyes matching the color too, "and your arm? Is it better?" his red and tearful eyes begged desperately for a good answer.

Harry knew if he told the truth to Ron, that he could never forgive himself. If Harry told Ron his whole body was now covered in cuts, Ron would be distraught. It would be painful for both of them to see the reaction.

"Better," Harry lied, "I haven't been cutting as much as I used to-"

"Let me see," Ron responded, gently but strongly, "I want to see your arm."

Ron looked at Harry, his eyes hungry for something bad not to happen.

Harry didn't know what to do, he jumped up.

"No, I don't want you to see it," Harry said quickly, and trying to open the door, but it was locked.

"You have been cutting," Ron said, his voice emotionless, breaking Harry's heart.

"Okay, yeah I have!" Harry shouted, tired of Ron's questions, then he immediately regretted shouting at him.

Ron looked down to his shoes and with the wave of his wand, unlocked the door. Then Ron walked back to his bed, his face getting progressively redder, and he sat. He covered his face with his hands.

Harry walked slowly back to his own bed, hating himself for making Ron miserable.

"You won't tell Hermione, will you?" Harry asked, panicky.

Ron hesitated then gave a deep sigh, "no, I won't."

"Thanks Ron," Harry said, feeling incredibly relieved, "I'm really grateful, really."

"Under one condition," Ron replied, he paused, "please try, try to get better, please Harry."

"I'm trying," Harry responded, gloomily, "really, I am."

There was a silence, in which Ron tossed in his bed and Harry stayed still in his.

"I hope you get help soon, mate."

Then, Harry looked over at Ron, who was staring at the ceiling, a world of thoughts behind his still red with tears, but blue eyes, Ron blinked and some tears escaped, Ron impatiently wiped them away. Harry felt his heart break and then turned back over.

And the conversation ended.

__________

The night was incredibly long.

Harry didn't sleep at all, tossed and turned all night.

And he knew Ron didn't sleep either. The absence of his snoring proved it.

The next morning, Harry showered and looked in the mirror.

It seemed as if the boy over the summer had disappeared.

Harry tranced his fingers over his body, his hip bones and rib cage were all pretty visible. His collar bones were too, and his legs and arms were like toothpicks. For some reason, that all gave him a deep satisfaction.

And, his bones were all marked, with cuts. Harry even had some on his stomach, many on his legs, and several on his arm. That gave him a deep feeling of shame, knowing he had done that.

His face was shallow and extremely pale. Ginny was right, he did look sick.

His, once bright, now glassy green eyes stared back at him. His black, once thick, now slightly thin hair was messy like it used to be, though.

Harry lowered his hands, and placed them to his sides.

No one can help, Harry thought to himself, no one can force me to stop but myself, I'm standing alone.

Harry continued to get dressed, and then when he finished, he looked into his glassy eyes once again, and then left.

__________

"Hey, do you want to go down to breakfast?" Ron asked Harry, as Harry grabbed a coat in the dormitory.

"Uh- yeah, sure," Harry answered, he missed having meals with them.

They walked down to the Great Hall, and then walked inside and Hermione was reading a book at the table.

Ron and Harry sat down, and Hermione then said, not looking up, "good morning."

"Good morning," Harry replied, grabbing some toast.

Hermione froze and then looked up, obviously not expecting to hear Harry's voice then grinned widely, "Harry, you're eating with us again!"

Harry rolled his eyes and laughed a bit, "yeah, maybe I am."

"Oh, that's great!" Hermione exclaimed, grinning, "it's been pretty quiet since you left."

Harry nodded, and started filing his plate.

Then, someone called, "Oi Potter!"

Harry looked up, half expecting it to be Ginny, but he knew the voice was disgustingly familiar.

Draco Malfoy was walking up to the Gryffindor table, with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

"Nice to see your pathetic face in the Great Hall again," Malfoy sneered, and then Crabbe and Goyle laughed loudly.

Harry felt a pang of hurt hit him, then Ron shouted in rage, "bugger off, Malfoy!"

Malfoy feigned hurt by grabbing his heart, "oh, Weasley, you're so kind." then he rolled his eyes, "anyway, a birdie told me that the reason you stopped eating in the Great Hall was because I was being mean to you, well Potter, I just wanted to say that I'm honored." he laughed out loud with Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry felt shame crawl inside him and his face turn beat red, how did Malfoy hear that?

"Well, I just I'll be seeing you two idiots on the field next week," Malfoy smirked, "I'm looking forward to seeing Gryffindor lose. I've got ten galleons on Ravenclaw so don't disappoint me." then Goyle laughed stupidly, and Malfoy nudged him in the ribs to stop.

"Looks like you'll be losing your money," Hermione hissed, angrily at Malfoy.

"Don't talk to me, filthy mudblood!" Malfoy shouted, disgust on his face.

Ron was about to shout something before Malfoy turned and walked away with Crabbe and Goyle following him.

"They're gits!" Ron shouted, red in his face, "I hate them all!"

Harry, with his face still red, believed in Malfoy's cruel words. He was terrible and was definitely going to cost Gryffindor the match.

Then, Harry came to a horrible realization. He started trembling and his breathe got shorter, he was going to have a panic attack.

Harry started shaking more, and he looked at Ron for help, but Ron didn't notice.

Harry started hyperventilating, and couldn't take it anymore, he bolted up from his seat and ran out of the Great Hall.

Behind him, he heard Ron drop his things and chase after him, with Hermione trailing after him too.

Harry ran and ran, he reached the portrait and shouted the password quickly and raced inside.

Still shaking and hyperventilating, Harry ran up to his dormitory and then to the bathroom, and almost collapsed on the ground.

Harry tried to hold himself by holding on firmly to the ridge of the sink. He heard Ron come bursting through the dormitory door. Harry hoped Ron would just leave, he really didn't want him to see him like this.

And then, Ron opened the door to the bathroom, just like Harry had hoped not.

"Harry!" Ron shouted, shocked, "we've got to get you out of here-"

"Ron, just leave, please!" Harry exclaimed, trying to stop himself from shaking, breathing in and out.

"I'm not leaving!" Ron shouted back, upset, "I'm not going to just leave you here-"

"Please Ron, please!" Harry yelled, desperately, "I really don't want you to see me like this, please just go!"

"I'm not moving," Ron said, sternly.

"Ron- please!" Harry screeched, something he would have never heard himself done, "I go through this every single night! You can go, please just go!"

Ron stared at him in disbelief.

"I swear- I just need time to calm down!" Harry shouted, shaking all over now, "I can't do that with you in here!"

Ron continued to stare at him, then sighed deeply, "fine, I'm trusting you on this, Harry."

"Thank you, Ron-" Harry gasped, as he continued to shake violently.

A painful sadness took over Ron's face as he shit the door behind him, leaving Harry in there.

Ron felt like hitting something, he kicked the side of his bed outraged.

"I can't take this anymore!" He roared, angry tears coming to his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

Ron hated seeing Harry like this. He felt as if he was being blackmailed to lie to Hermione.

Then, he left the dorm in fury at himself.

"Is Harry alright?" Hermione asked, concerned, as Ron stormed downstairs.

"Perfect!" Ron exclaimed, furious, "just utterly fantastic!"

"Ron, you better not be being sarcastic!" Hermione snapped, "this is no time for sarcasm!"

Ron rolled his eyes and then added, "yeah, he's just fine." he hated lying to Hermione.

Hermione gave him a suspicious look, and Ron felt that he had given it anyway, then, to his relief, Hermione shrugged.

"I hope you're not lying to me," she said, sternly, "if he really isn't-"

"He is, he was just upset about Malfoy, he needs some time," Ron said quickly.

Hermione nodded, "alright, well, class is about to start, can Harry come by himself?"

"Hermione, he isn't a little kid," Ron answered, "yeah, he can come to class himself."

"Yeah, okay," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, then they left the common room for class.

Meanwhile, Harry was up in the bathroom.

Harry was still shaking violently and hyperventilating, then Harry pulled his potions knife out of his pocket which he always had in there.

He rolled up his sleeve and cut himself quickly in tiny, but deep lines, he hated doing this, but it was the only way for him to calm down.

As soon as the panic attack was over, the throw up started coming up his throat, surprising him.

Harry put the toilet seat up right in time, and he threw up all inside.

When he finished, Harry looked down at the toilet. He was shocked.

Blood, Harry had thrown up blood.

He had literally tore his throat.

He didn't know when, but the tears came before Harry could stop them.

Harry sobbed into his hands, making it hard to breathe for himself.

Harry cried hard for a long time, never remembering crying like this.

His eyes were swollen and red, and his breathing uneven. He continued to cry.

Harry was scared, more scared than he had ever been in his life.

Panic attacks, cutting, and eating disorders. That was his life now...

__________

It had been six days.

In those six days, too much had happened, and Harry had just given up.

Every time Harry threw up, he saw blood. But that just became a normal thing for him to see. The first time he saw it, he was scared, then the second time, less scared, and it went from there.

He knew it wasn't normal, and it wasn't suppose to normal at all, but sadly, that's how Harry saw it as. Normal.

His panic attacks were just progressively getting worse. He had gotten them every night since those six days, the same nightmare too. It was always the one of Sirius telling him he didn't deserve to be happy. The nightmare pained Harry more than he pained him to cut himself, or make himself throw up. And that was saying a lot.

His body was covered more in cuts than bare skin. And that thought might've boiled Harry alive.

Yet, he acted like everything was fine. Harry still ate in the Great Hall with Ron and Hermione. He didn't eat almost anything though, his strength had completely left him. Harry knew Hermione was getting suspicious, but he could care less. Now that he wasn't keeping his secret as carefully, he knew Hermione raised eyebrows at him as he ate slowly and so little, and then afterwards would go to the bathroom to throw it up. Ron refused to let him go alone to the bathroom, Harry didn't bother with doing the illusion charms anymore, Ron knew his secret in and out anyway. So what was the point?

And he still went to classes too, even if it hurt him so much to even walk...

Harry had stopped running too, it hurt him too much to walk fast, plus it was February, he was always freezing so why would he go outside just to freeze more?

That's why Harry was in bed today. It was the day before the match and Harry could barely even get up from his bed because of lack of strength. Ron had told Ginny and Ginny sent him a howler yelling at him to "not get your arse out of bed because we have a game tomorrow and it's better to be rested than to be bloody exhausted", even Hermione thought it would be better for him to just rest today, and that she was sure that the professors would understand. So he was cornered and just decided to stay in bed for today.

But Harry refused to sleep, even though he was completely exhausted. He didn't want another nightmare, because he knew that would result into a panic attack.

Harry groaned, it was really boring to stay in bed all day with nothing to do. He just had to wait until tomorrow. Until it was the Quidditch game.

Then, the thought came to him. His goal.

His goal!

Harry bolted up from his bed at the thought. Resulting in wincing with pain.

Harry had forgotten completely, so he limped to the bathroom.

Harry opened the bathroom door, and studied the area, looking for a scale somewhere.

Nothing, Harry thought, discouraged.

Wait, he thought, I can just use a summoning charm!

Harry grinned, and then decided to try it out.

"Accio scale!" Harry hissed, waving his wand.

He felt discouraged again, until something had shattered the bathroom window and landed on the floor.

A scale! Harry thought grinning.

"Reparo!" He said to the window, before testing out his goal result.

Then, Harry looked down at the scale. Fear swarmed in him.

Why was he scared? What if he didn't reach his goal? Even more questions were bouncing around his head.

Harry took a deep breathe, and decided to go for it. To just get on and see the number, it was just a number right?

He closed his eyes and put one foot on it, then the other. His heart thumping in his ears. The scale turned on and started calculating.

It was the longest seconds of Harry's life.

Then, the number finally stopped calculating. Harry opened his eyes slowly, preparing himself to see the number.

Below 120, he thought to himself, below 120...

His heart stopped.

And his eyes settled on the number board, it read 114 pounds.

Harry's heart jumps with glee, and Harry did too, causing his feet to land harshly and again wince with pain.

He was so happy, that he grabbed the scale and threw out the newly repaired window, breaking it again.

"It's okay!" Harry exclaimed, happily, "I'll just fix it again! Reparo!"

The window was slightly repaired, but not completely because of the weakness of his magic, but Harry didn't care. He had reached his goal! Surpassed it even!

Soon enough, the energy had quickly fm drained out of Harry.

He walked slowly back to his bed and crawled inside, feeling the warmth hug him again.

He was so happy. But so tired too...

Before Harry could stop himself, he drifted to sleep. This time pleasantly not having any nightmares.

__________

An alarm was what woke Harry up.

And then Ron exclaiming, "it's the Quidditch game today! Come on Harry, wake up!"

Harry groaned and opened his eyes lazily. He felt even worse than yesterday, of that was even possible.

"What time is it?" He groaned, as he buried his face into his pillow for warmth.

"It's 10:30!" Ron said, grinning, "it's Saturday so I wanted extra sleep, but mate you slept for an entire day!"

Harry groaned again, "I want to sleep more."

"Mate, it's the game today!" Ron replied, chuckling, "Ginny will murder you if you slept for another day!"

"Oh yeah, she sent me a howler yesterday," Harry replied, laughing a little, "something about 'I better not get my arse out of bed because I need my rest for the game'."

Ron laughed out loud, "I'm honestly not surprised!"

Harry laughed too, it hurt his stomach to laugh so hard. It even pained him to move.

"Shit!" Ron gasped, "breakfast is over!"

Harry's heart jumped with happiness, he didn't feel like throwing up today. He didn't feel like doing anything but sleep.

"Well, lunch starts in an hour," Ron said, looking at the clock, "the game starts after lunch ends, which is in two hours, so I'm going to jump in the shower."

Ron left to the bathroom, and Harry buried his face into his pillow.

He would've stayed in his bed all day if Ron hadn't dragged him to lunch after they had both showered and dressed into their Quidditch gear...

So they walked down to the Great Hall together, with Hermione too.

"Eat up because we start in an hour," Ginny told them, as she went and sat by her friends at the opposite side of the table.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat down and Ron and Hermione started piling their plates.

Harry looked around nervously, he felt himself getting hotter, he felt like how you felt when you had a fever.

He watched Ron and Hermione eat, they ate their normal amounts of breakfast like normal people, Harry felt envy crawl inside him.

"Harry? Aren't you going to eat anything?" Hermione asked, watching him fidget around, "you slept all yesterday, and you didn't eat anything at all yesterday."

Harry looked at the piece of toast on his plate, "I'm not hungry," Harry responded quickly, but then his stomach growled loudly. Harry cursed silently.

Hermione eyed him suspiciously, she obviously heard his stomach growl.

"Well, you obviously are hungry," she said, in a business way, "so why don't you eat?"

Ron looked at Harry, in a guilty sort of way.

Harry didn't respond, but just stared back at her.

"Harry, what's going on?" Hermione questioned, desperately, "you've been acting strange for ages now, what's happening?" it hurt Harry to look in her brown eyes, which ached with sadness.

"It's-" Harry paused, and looked at her quickly, he was abou to tell her, but then decided against it, "it's just hard to explain, I have to go," Harry raised up from his seat.

"Harry!" Hermione added, impatiently, "why don't you just tell me? How can it be difficult to explain?"

Harry just shook his head, and he quickly left the Great Hall.

Ron groaned.

Hermione turned to Ron, and glared at him, "what's his problem?"

Ron looked at Hermione guiltily, hating to lie to her.

Hermione's expression changed from annoyance to concern quickly, "you know why, don't you Ron?"

Ron felt his face heat up, and then looked back down at the table. He shut his eyes.

"Ron?" Hermione's voice asked, concern etched in it, "please tell me, whatever is happening. It could be really important."

Ron opened his eyes, and looked back at her. She was right, this was really important. Harry's life was more important than some stupid promise. Ron knew that he'd rather have Harry never talk to him, than lying in his own death bed.

Ron wasn't going to chicken out. Hermione and him both just wanted Harry back like he used to be, non-distant, healthy, and most importantly, happy.

"Hermione," Ron said, softly, his head telling him to stop but his heart begging him to continue, "Harry has an eating disorder," Ron's heart had won in the end.

__________

Meanwhile, Harry's hunger had gotten the best of him.

Harry was in the boy's dormitory, eating his stash of food he got from Dobby.

He wanted it to end. He really did, but at the same time he loved it.

Then, after he ate all his stomach could let him, Harry raced to the bathroom and threw it all up.

Harry lifted his head from the toilet seat, and saw he had thrown up food and blood, but mostly blood. It didn't scare him anymore, it was normal for him to throw up blood.

He flushed the toilet and muttered the cleansing spell, which didn't work very well thanks to his lack of strength in magic.

Harry left the bathroom and collapsed onto his bed, he turned his bed to glance at the clock.

It read: 12:05.

Harry groaned, he didn't feel like playing Quidditch at all, but he had to be early since he was the captain.

He raised up from his bed and started walking down to the pitch.

__________

Almost the whole team was there already before Harry came up. And Ginny's jaw dropped when Harry came inside the dressing room.

"Are you okay?" Ginny asked him, her brows furrowed, "you look sick."

"Yes, I'm fine," Harry responded, rolling his eyes, "I feel great."

Ginny gave him a questioning look and then shrugged, "fine, but if you come to your senses when it's time to go out to the field-"

Then, someone shrieked, the whole team whipped around to see who had screamed like that. Harry saw a rather short girl with brown bushy hair marching up to him.

"You!" She screamed, fury in her face and pointing at Harry, "why didn't you say anything!" her voice sounding so shrill it hurt Harry's ears.

"What-?" Harry started to ask her, but she interrupted him.

"You've been slowly killing yourself since the summer and I-" Hermione's lip quivered, making Harry's heart ache, "I've just- just-"

Hermione's fury was replaced by sadness, and tears welled up in her eyes.

Harry felt the insides turn cold and shrivel up. Hermione knew too.

The tears flooded her eyes and rolled down her face, as she impatiently wiped them off, her cheeks and nose growing redder.

"Why didn't you say anything!" She screamed, Harry never recalled seeing her like this, "I'm so fucking stupid!"

Harry felt the eyes of all his team members on him and Hermione, and then a tall redheaded figure walked in. Harry felt a firery fury take his heart.

"You told her!" Harry bellowed, furious, "you swore you wouldn't tell anybody!"

Harry expected Ron to look guilty, or to apologize, but instead, Ron looked determined.

"Mate, you were making yourself throw up everyday!" Ron shouted back, fury on his eyes too, "you were miserable! You said it yourself, you couldn't even control it anymore!"

Harry felt like someone set his heart on fire, and he lunged at Ron, wanting to fight him.

"No- stop!" He screamed as someone petite, but really strong held him back, he knew it was Ginny.

Ron stared at him, disbelief and determination etched on his face. Harry calmed down and Ginny finally let him go.

"You're sick, Harry!" Ron shouted, his expression desperate, "you need help!"

"No, I don't!" Harry shouted back, feeling the energy of the anger come back quickly to him. But he refrained from jumping at Ron again, mostly because he knew Ginny would beat him up.

Hermione stared at Harry, her eyes shining with tears again.

"You do, Harry," Hermione whispered, surprisingly soft, "you're really really sick."

"Im- not- sick-!" Harry roared.

"You need to tell Madame Promfrey," Hermione continued to say, desperation in her eyes, "or I will."

Harry shook his head violently, "don't you dare!" he shouted, his voice cracking mid sentence.

"This has gone on for too long, Harry!" Hermione screamed, her voice shrill, "for how much again? Oh, almost seven months! For crying loud out! Aren't you tired of all this?"

Harry darted a furious look at Ron, but Ron just stared at him right back, anything but fear on his face.

Harry gave a deep breathe and then looked at Hermione coldly, "I'm not tired."

Ron rolled his eyes and looked furiously at Harry, "shut your mouth! You told me you were tired of this! That all you wanted was to stop!"

"I know what I need, okay!" Harry bellowed, his voice starting to get sore, from throwing up and yelling so much, "and it's not help! I just need time!"

"Time?" Hermione replied, clearly upset and tears flooding again, "time is what's going to kill you, Harry! That's the problem! You need help now!"

Harry felt his heart start to speed, and his breathe drastically change. Oh no.

Dizziness and nausea hit him so hard that he almost fell over but his determination to show Ron and Hermione he wasn't sick stopped that from happening.

His panic attacks never felt like this, then he knew he was having a real panic attack. The others were anxiety attacks.

"I'm not sick," Harry said, sternly, feeling the color leave his face.

Ron almost hit the wall in frustration, and Hermione cried out, "Harry, yes you are! You don't see it! You're skin and bones!"

Harry felt the nausea hit him again, and he almost fell over if he didn't move his foot to the side to prevent it. Chest pain pounded him, he felt as if he was dying.

That was it. Harry was about to make a fool of himself in front of Ron and Hermione. In desperation, Harry turned quickly and tried to get out of there before it was too late.

"No!" Hermione shrieked, slightly angrily, grabbing his arm so he couldn't go anywhere, "if you think you're just going to leave-!"

Hermione's hand gripped Harry's sleeve, and as Harry tried to get away, the sleeve rolled up, revealing all of his cuts. There was cuts over cuts, and more cuts than bare skin.

Hermione's eyes swelled up again, she looked at Harry, a shocked and saddened look on her face. She started sobbing.

"You need help, Harry!" Hermione screamed, taking convulsive gulps, "you're sick! Harry, please-!"

Harry felt the panic rise, his heart speed up even more and he started hyperventilating, and violently shaking all over.

His vision got so small, he seemed like he staring out of a straw.

Tunnel vision...

"I'm not sick!" Harry shouted, while shaking all over and he threw himself at the wall for support as he felt like he was about to die, "I don't need help!"

"Harry!" Hermione shouted, trying to support him while holding him up, "y-you're shaking!"

Next thing he knew, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, and the other team members were in panic. Ron and Hermione helping him stay up while Ginny was told to go get McGonagall.

"I- AM- NOT- SICK-!" Harry screamed, as he shakily collapsed to the ground, "I- DON'T- NEED- HELP-!" trying to breathe and a great chest pain smacked into him, making him cry out loudly. Hermione held him to her, but he was shaking so violently that she struggled to keep him close to her.

Hermione was sobbing and screamed out, "he's having a panic attack!"

Harry drew in shaky breathes of air before he tried to manage to whisper, only so Hermione could hear. He laid there, struggling immensely just to breathe out some last words of despair, of desperation. Some kind of way to force her and Ron quiet, and maybe to leak some of the bursting guilt that was eating him inside out too.

"Please," Harry shook as he whispered, "I don't deserve help."

"Oh, Harry," responded Hermione, Harry knew she had understood what he'd meant. Tears were trailing down her pink face when she gave him a shaky smile, "you do more than anyone I know."

Then, Harry lost complete control. His tunnel vision was starting to close into him. Harry cried out again, trying to make it stop. But in the end, he gave in.

Harry let the dark take him, so it did.

It all went black in Harry's world...

__________

It was warm and soft. Like a bed.

Harry wanted to stay there forever, but he was starting to get his senses back...

Harry shuffled in his sleep, or whatever this was anyway.

He was starting to hear voices, he heard Ron's and Hermione's, and someone familiar too but he couldn't make it out completely.

Harry tried to listen harder, but he couldn't hear exactly what they were saying. He just heard muffled whispers.

His senses were getting closer and closer...

Soon, he had control over his movements.

Harry opened his eyes. The light was bright at first, making him squint painfully. Then he moved his body around, and saw he was in the hospital wing.

He saw Hermione and Ron sitting by his bed on the hospital wing chairs, with extremely worried looks on their faces. Hermione was the first to notice Harry was awake and she gave a small squeal.

"Is he awake?" said the familiar voice Harry had heard earlier, it was Madame Promfrey.

"Yes," Harry answered for Hermione, as she was about to answer back. She gave him an amused look, and he chuckled a bit, but it hurt to laugh in state.

"Good," Madame Promfrey said, then she went on to go treat another injured student near by.

Harry looked at Hermione and Ron, who both looked very stressed. Harry noticed that Hermione's eyes were still puffy and there were trails of tears on her face. He knew she had been crying, he felt a huge pang of guilt hit him.

Hermione gave him a weak smile, and then asked, "how are you feeling?"

"Not bad," Harry replied, then adding, "but not good either," to make it true. After all this time he sick of lying.

"You've been out cold for a day, mate," Ron said, his worry kinda fading.

"Really?" Harry asked, surprised, "and what has happened? how did the match go?"

Ron's worry faded completely and happiness replaced it, "it went great! We won the match, and Ginny took your spot as seeker for the day."

Harry smiled, "yeah she's great, I'm really happy she's co-captain. I'm glad I didn't disappoint anyone."

"Why would you disappoint anyone?" Hermione asked, confused.

"You know, I didn't want to make Gryffindor lose again because I didn't want Ginny to help," Harry replied, finally grateful for Ginny. He was happy that she was there to help.

"No mate, you didn't disappoint anyone, don't worry," Ron said, "and last time wasn't even your fault."

Harry gave a him and nodded, sitting up.

"So, Mr. Potter," Madame Promfrey said as she made her way back by his bed, "I hear you've been sick?"

Harry hesitated, but then understood that he was sick, and that was nothing to be ashamed of. He nodded.

"I need help, Madame Promfrey," Harry said, his courage filling him up, "I want to know if I could start treatment for eating disorders, and self harm too, even anxiety and panic attack treatments."

"Yes, Mr. Potter, you've already been diagnosed," she said, smiling, "you'll start treatment as soon as you recover from your panic attack."

"Really? That's great," Harry replied, relieved.

He was getting help. He was sick of this disease and it was finally going to go away. That was when Harry realized that maybe he wasn't standing alone in this.

He looked at Ron and Hermione, they were smiling at him. Harry smiled back, his face muscles felt strange, it was the first real smile in ages.

"I think it's time I get help."

__________

This shit was 22k words

Bitch I am proud of myself tf I can hardly write 50 words for an essay

Anyway hope this wasn't too distressing to read even THOUGH IT WAS DISTRESSING FOR ME TO WRITE

I literally cried throughout writing this entire fanfic oh this was the end of me

I hope I did an okay job on describing everything since I have never experienced an eating disorder or a panic attack or self harm

And I will be rewriting this in the future guys!!!! I recently reread this shit and I have at least one error in every paragraph tbh it's probably more

And when I do rewrite this I'm making sure I completely research each thing so I know what the hell im talking about and I'm going to do a better job of actual writing

Anyway bye for now guys love u!!!!!!! Pls write to me if you are struggling I love to help