Random Harry Potter One-shots Sickfics

Ron - Bulimia - 14k words

He'd never really had a problem with his weight, exactly. It was hard to when his house didn't actually have a pair of scales so he didn't know what it was and had nothing to compare it to anyway. Weight wasn't something he really ever brought up with his mates.

Until that morning.

The school did its annual check up on everyone in the first week back and Ron Weasley went with his best friends Harry and Hermione, along with the rest of his year group, to see the team of medi-witches and check that they'd had all their wizarding vaccines, along with a few other things.

"Alright, Mr Weasley" prompted Ron's, a tall, intimidating woman with a shock of white hair. "If you'd like to step up on the scales please." 

He did so, not thinking much of it, looking around the room to smile at Harry, who was only a few meters away, and doing the same thing. He had Draco on the other side, who he didn't bother to greet. Instead, he heard a short, sharp laugh, and realised the blond aristocrat was laughing cruelly at the state of him- he'd only just got out of bed and hadn't had the chance to brush his hair yet. And the toe sticking out of his sock probably didn't help.

"Alright, thank you" she barked, and he leapt off, not before sneaking a look at the number on the scale beforehand. He wasn't anxious, more curious, and the number, 175 pounds, didn't mean much to him. Not until he read Harry's.

146 pounds.

And Draco.

144.

He weighed nearly two stone more than them? But he was the same age- that couldn't be right, he wasn't overweight. But compared to Harry- Harry, who'd always made the girls swoon, king of the Quidditch field, he was. And even Draco- he didn't like to admit it, but he was known for being fairly good looking too, and he was the Slytherin Seeker. He was just a Keeper, and a poor one at that. Maybe Malfoy hadn't just been laughing at his socks.

Maybe I ought to get back into shape, he thought, watching somewhat nervously as his weight was marked down on his file. If I want to keep my place on the team, I ought to start working for it.

But, not really thinking any more of it, he waited for Hermione to put her shoes back on and walked back to lunch with the rest of the trio.

(~~~)

Why couldn't he forget that stupid number? It seemed to echo along to the ticking of his watch; 175, 175, 175-

"Ron? Are you going to eat something?" laughed Harry, who had found himself a heaping plateful of food and was going through it with gusto. Hermione warned him to slow down but he rolled his eyes and said he couldn't help it, he was always like this at the beginning of the year. 

Ron watched with interest, seeing bits of grated cheese fly out in all directions as Harry devoured his sandwich. For some reason, he felt a little nauseated.

"Hermione?" Ron asked, knowing this was going to be a weird question. "How do you eat healthily?"

She blinked- quite understandably: he wasn't known for paying particular attention to what he ate. Maybe the thought of him trying to eat healthier was so unfathomable she was having trouble processing it- the great Hermione Granger, the smartest kid in school. It wasn't a particularly pleasant thought. He began to feel that annoying red flush spread across his face to the tips of his ears and he began to wish he had never opened his mouth.

"Ron, are you feeling ok?" asked Hermione eventually, sounding concerned. He turned even redder and she put a hand to his cheek to feel for a fever.

"Yes," he replied irritability, batting her hand away. "I was just wondering how to stay in shape, that's all. Become better at Quidditch. I want to try out for the teams this year."