Out of my League

Chapter Thirty Two

It's only been a few hours but I still haven't told anyone except for Harry about my mum. I haven't eaten since I found out, which means I didn't eat anything today. My hands haven't stopped shaking, no matter what I do I can't stop it. It still doesn't feel real, nothing does.

This all taught me something though, anything can happen. So I might as well screw up as many times as you can before I become an adult. Because when I'm all grown up it'll actually count, but right now I can kind of do whatever I want; No consequences.

Even with the whole not eating situation, I can still fix it I have plenty of time to go days without a real meal. People get it easily confused, everyone says that I'm 'starving myself' that's not what's going on at all. I simply would rather not eat anything because I dislike the feeling of having a full meal more than I do having a headache or tiredness in exchange.

Food just grosses me out so much, most times I feel more sick thinking about eating than I do while not eating for hours at a time.

My stomach hurts a lot right now though, but I'm assuming it's from all of the nerves that came from reading the letter and finding out that today was the worst day of my life. Water usually helps so I get up from my spot in the library to head to the bathroom. I've tried to start reading since that's how Hermione has always releases stress but it's not that interesting to me.

The bathroom is cold, like always. When I open the stall and look at the toilet I get a familiar sick feeling, my mouth gets all dry and suddenly I'm leaning over the toilet seat while getting sick, my throat burns horribly and my stomach feels so empty that it makes me feel nauseous again. There's nothing left to come up though.

A sudden feeling of fatigue hits me out of nowhere, I press my hand against the wall to help myself stand until I feel slightly better.

I don't have any interest in talking to anyone other than Harry right now, he makes me happy. I could be in the worst mood and just seeing his face makes me feel better. He told me he would stay by the fire and wait for me to come back when I explained that I was going to the library.

In the hallway I can feel my chest begin to burn and my head begin to pound. I've been able to brush these types of feelings off before but this time it's different.

My breaths are shortening slightly with each step up Gryffindor tower.

As soon as I step through the portrait hole Harry's head whips around and his face lights up once he recognizes it's me walking in, he hasn't moved since I left.

He waves me over to sit next to him, I do so since I can't think much for myself with this dreadful headache. I make the mistake of using the back of the sofa to lean on, of course Harry's too observant not to notice. I notice his eyes fixate on everything I do.

"How bad is your headache?" He asks.

"How did you know?" I question.

"You keep blinking hard, you always do when your head hurts." He begins "Do you want water or something, how about some tea?" He suggests energetically.

"No, I'm fine." I say slowly while squinting to make the brightness coming off of the fire less hard in my eyes.

"I'm just worried that you haven't had enough to eat or drink, I don't want you do go to bed in pain. I'm not trying to force you to do anything but..." He sort of just rambles on but I can't seem to focus on what he's saying, all of the words just blend together into something that doesn't make any sense.

"I'm ok, just tired." I cut him off.

"Are you sure?" He asks.

I nod in response because it's better than blatantly lying to his face. I'm really not ok at all, my mums dead and I feel sick.

I start to stand up but I'm so weak, and cold. Why is it so cold in here? I cross my arms to warm myself as I slowly make my way to the staircase.

"Wait." Harry jumps up, he quickly pulls the light grey sweatshirt he had on over his head and offers it to me. "Just keep this, you look cold and possibly sick so I want you to have it for now at least. It usually keeps me really warm even in the middle of winter." He shrugs.

I take the pile of fabric from his hands and sort of stare at it. It's still warm from his body heat, I don't know why I feel so emotional about it. It's just a stupid sweatshirt but it makes me so happy that he actually cares this much.

I hug him, pressing my face into his chest "Thank you." I say. Although it's muffled he gets the point. He hugs me back much gentler, he's always very careful with me and I really appreciate. It just shows how he considers everything before he does it.

His hand on my arm makes my goosebumps smooth away quickly and calms my nerves enough for my hands to finally stop shaking. He rests his chin on top of my head, weirdly it helps with my headache. Everything he does helps me, no matter what, even when he's not trying.

We stay like this for a while, it's a comforting position comfortable enough for me to close my eyes and lean into him slightly more, he holds me tighter with his fingers rather than squeezing with his arms.

As we stand here together, a thought at the back of my mind continues to taunt me. I still haven't told him that right before this, I was in the bathroom throwing up any nutrients I had left for the day. It makes me feel horribly guilty, like I'm lying to him but I don't want to ruin what we have right now. I can tell him another time, or since it seems to get him so worked up, just keep it to myself.

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