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twenty-five | recovering

guys im ngl idk how recovery for anything works bc im a mess who doesnt recover from anything so 

quick reminder to everyone that this is fiction !!

~no pov

The next week was the last week of school for Harry and Draco, and so far the two had gone three days trying to recover. 

Draco found recovering easier than he expected, which made his anxiety peak, but he had Dobby when he didn't want to bother Harry.

Dobby often came into Draco's room to check up on him, make sure he hadn't binged, and watched from afar as he ate with Harry over call. 

Dobrich confiscated the scales, kept away the hygiene products so he could tell if Draco purged and monitored his exercising. So far, so good.

Harry, however, was less fortunate. Vernon didn't like the idea of Harry having to eat daily, or the fact that he was going to die. But the short brunet just wanted to recover and not have heart failure, and Vernon was making it harder.

Dudley managed to convince his dad to let Harry eat, for reasons Harry never found out or would understand. He even confiscated Harry's scale. Grateful, Harry began his rocky start to recovery.

Draco and Harry both had their anxieties about how simple this recovery felt, like it should be more difficult. But so far, no triggers.

Vernon had even left Harry alone for cooking, which no doubt fucked up his anorexia whilst he was struggling, and stopped hitting him for a bit.

It scared Harry that his life was seeming better. 

On the last day of school before winter break, the two boys went back to the locker room with a scale and decided they would check each other, without saying how much the other weighed.

Harry went first, to get it over with. 

50.4kg

That was a start. "How much did you weigh when you last checked?"

The night he spoke to Petunia, he weighed himself before Dudley took the scale off him. "Erm, about fifty something. Fifty point one, I think?"

It had been a week and Harry gained three hundred grams. This was one step forward, and currently no steps back. "I'm so proud of you, Potter."

Harry needed to hear that so badly, he almost cried on the spot. Such a simple phrase all kids should hear, yet his deprivation of the simple assurance hit him hard. 

"Thank you. Your turn."

Draco stepped on the scales tentatively. He weighed himself before having his scale taken too. Oh the similarities.

50.9kg

"How much did you weigh when you last checked?"

"Erm, fifty point.. give me a sec..." He thought for a half minute before a number came into mind. "Fifty point five."

That was four hundred grams. And that was good. Though Draco was the binger, Harry didn't care. He knew Dobby kept a close eye on Draco. He trusted that he was doing well, and was honest about it.

"I'm so fucking proud of you, Draco." Harry hugged the taller blond, arms thrown over his shoulders. His head rested against the still-prominent collarbones. 

Draco wrapped his arms around Harry's ribcage, feeling every rib and frowning. He hadn't noticed that nearly two months ago. Maybe he was distracted by the flat stomach and v-line, or maybe Harry got worse.