just sit back and relapse

Julian rolled his eyes, though his arms stayed propped on the table, gaze darting from one fellow student to the other. The small collection of sixth and seventh year old boys sat around the table, a disproportionate amount of food stacked high on plates in front of them.

The house elves had all disappeared, leaving the boys to play the game that the leader, Bonheur, thought he had so ingeniously created.

How he'd gotten here, Julian himself wasn't all that sure. All he knew was that spending time with them was at least better than lying in his bed, wide awake.

The game itself was simple, if not entirely ill-advised.

Pushing a plate of food towards the boy beside him, Bonheur grinned, the expression looking rather unsettling on his rakish features. "Eat up, Durant."

The redhead grimaced, but grabbed a fork anyway, shovelling piles of food into his mouth to the accompanying cheers. Julian stayed silent, rolling his eyes at the boys around him again and not for the first time wondering why he had nothing better to do then spend time with these losers.

But he'd been there for upwards of an hour, and he hadn't been unceremoniously chosen and even if he was...The Prideux tilted his head at the plate closest to him. There wasn't that much food on it. It'd be nothing.

"Alright," Bonheur grinned as Durant emptied his plate, turning his beady eyes towards the blond sixth year. "Rousseau, your turn."

The boy shrugged, a tiny grin crossing his face. "Fine." But as soon as he laid eyes on the plate being pushed his way, stacked high with more food than he could eat in a day, Julian visibly paled. "He got less then me," he pointed out, nodding in the redhead's direction.

The seventh year's grin simply widened as he leaned back in his chair. "He's smaller than you." Raising an eyebrow, he asked, "Why? Is someone here a little scared?"

Julian's eyes darkened as he leaned towards the boy, a frown marring his face. "Please. I'd like to see you do this." And with that, sparing one disgusted look at the plate, he grabbed a fork.

And somehow, he managed to eat it. Staring blankly down at the empty plate, the cheers echoing in his ears, he smiled queasily, shoving the plate away. "Well that was fun," he murmured, his voice weaker than he'd expected as he blinked slowly, his stomach protesting the large quantity of food.

"Oh, it was." The Angelique grinned, tossing his badge in the air before catching it behind his back. Rising from his seat, Bonheur nodded to his friends. "What a game it was." Focusing his gaze on Julian, he added, "Oh, Rousseau? As the newbie, you get to clean up." With a smile and degrading wave, him and all his friends vacated the kitchen.

For a few moments, the prefect sat in silence, staring in front of him as he tried to ignore the nagging thoughts that had been plauging him for months. Giving his head a sharp shake, he rose from his seat, his eyes sliding in and out of focus as he looked around him. Pulling out his wand, he waved it, sending the dishes flying into the sink and beginning to wash themselves.

"Don't look at me like that," Julian said softly, hugging himself as he glanced over at the kitten that had hardly made a sound since they'd arrived. "I'm perfectly fine." Even as he said it, his stomach objected, making him wrap his arms around himself tighter. Turning away, he let out a little groan, moving towards an empty sink.

Blinking down at his own reflection, he bit down on his bottom lip, a hand pressing into his abdomen. Gripping the counter with his other hand, he breathed in and out slowly, fighting the inevitable.

How long had it been since he'd been in this position? And here he was, watching that all come crashing down because of his own pride. A minute shiver running up his spine, his grip on his wand tightened. But he ended up not having to need it.

His problem was more then just psychological; his body itself didn't want the food. Both his hands now on the counter, his fingers digging into it, Julian let out a little sigh before he emptied out his stomach contents.

It was odd, the two Prideux students tended to stumble upon each other on almost every one of her pancake escapades. She had abandoned Jacob- no, Johnathan? Javier. Whichever willing Angelique it had been, to seek out pancakes. It was odd, after every time she was with someone, she felt lonelier. Pancakes were more her comfort food than a frequent craving.

Buttoning up her shirt as she walked through the corridor towards the kitchen, Harmonie used her other hand to comb her hair hurriedly- while most knew that she did not hesitate to exploit the male student body, the girl was always aware of her reputation and-

She froze at the entrance of the kitchen, not quite understanding for a brief moment- a mere consequence of shock. And then she was by his side, recovering almost instantly. Of course, her motherly instincts, having practically raised her younger twin, did not take long to kick into action.

"Sssh." The girl attempted to soothe, her hand rubbing his back in circles, dark eyes hard with concern as she observed him. He looked weak. Rousseau was not weak- he had always been part of her strength, whether she would admit that to him or not. And now he looked fragile.

Slowly removing herself from his side, and reluctantly pulling her hand away, Harmonie reached for a glass and filled it with water, unsure what else to do.

When he wanted to be alone - and to be honest, such moments weren't often. Whether or not he'd admit it, he craved attention - it was almost guaranteed, someone would show up. Why it still surprised him, he wasn't sure. Fate had long since decided to make him its chewtoy.

His shoulders shook, the action managing to send shivers down his spine. What was wrong with him? He'd spent months making sure this would never happen again. And here he was, absolutely shattering that. Rubbing his mouth with the back of his hand, he inhaled deeply, his other hand clawing at his throat, already beginning to feel sore. Face paling as his gaze flicked over his own vomit, he turned on the taps, the evidence swirling away with the water.

Jumping at the sudden touch, having not heard her enter, he turned towards her, his expression automatically on guard. But it only lasted seconds, whatever resolve he had crumbling. Julian was tired of being much stronger than he was. Wasn't this proof of how weak he was?

His arms wrapping around her, he let out a little shuddering sigh, burying his head in her shoulder. For a moment, he wished they were twelve again and that she was taller. There had been so much less leaning then to hug.

"I - I-" His grip on her tightened, his lips trembling. He was going to cry, he noted dully as his eyes prickled. He wanted to say something. Something that'd magically make him feel better and destroy the disgust beginning to fester in his stomach. It seemed that something wanted to replace the food in his stomach.

Taking a step away from her, his gaze instantly dropped, not wanting to face her. "Hi," he whispered, taking the glass from her, cradling it in his hands a moment before raising it to his lips, taking a swig and promptly spitting it out into the sink, another shiver running through his body.

"H - How are you?" he muttured, turning back towards the sink, rubbing his throat with his free hand, his eyes flitting over the cabinets hanging above his head.

Harmonie's body noticeably tensed at his guarded expression, her hand immediately retreating to her side. Had she intruded? It was true that she had rarely seen him like this- rarely seen him so weak- but she had always thought he would not mind- well, at the very least, not feel ashamed because of her, she had thought-

Her anxiety dissipated as soon as he embraced her, biting her lip to suppress the sigh of relief that threatened to echo his own. She didn't know what to do. Was he ill? It felt too grave to merely be an illness. As if she couldn't quite understand beyond the surface of him throwing up. Harm's frown deepened as her train of thought hurtled on, thinking of terrible possibilities, of things that could fracture her friend and she would have to standby and wait until he was done, just to hand him a pathetic glass of water-

She kissed him roughly on the cheek and tightened her hold on him, barely even registering his attempt to speak. Her stomach twisted uneasily as he stepped away, her own dark gaze fixed on him- searching for any sign that he might crumble to pieces on the floor, no matter how absurd the notion was.

"Hey." Harmonie replied weakly, flashing him a smile- then paused after the question.

"How are you?" She repeated incredulously, taking him by the shoulder. "You-you-what?" Harmonie glared at him, suddenly overwhelmed with a rush of frustration. What was wrong with him?! Why wasn't he fixed? "Are you kidding?" She breathed, eyebrows raised expectantly- a perfect picture of the perpetually irritated, concerned mother.

Julian let out a deep breath, running his tongue across his lips. His mouth was so dry....Letting out a little shudder, he raised the glass to his lips, trying his best to stop his hands from shaking. Draining the entire glass, he set it down beside him, doing his best not to look up at Harmonie.

He hated himself. The feeling was sudden and unwelcome, sending another wrack of shivers down his spine. He hated himself for what he was doing, not just to himself, but to others. It'd been there with Lisette had found out, and then again when Ondrea had and when Ninette had and then again when Kallie had and even when Karma had, but now he really had no one else to hide it from. When it came down to it, they were the six people who mattered the most to him, and now that they all knew, he knew just how much he'd hurt them.

"I'm sorry," he whispered in her ear, pressing a kiss to her cheek, his grip on her tightening as well. "I'm so sorry, Harmy." Smiling back even though his situation gave him nothing to smile about, he brushed a strand of hair out of his eyes.

If only acting normal made him feel normal.

The sixth year chewed on his bottom lip, ignoring the need to look over his shoulder at her. Jerked back towards her, Julian avoided her eyes, instead focusing on a spot a little above her head. "No. I'm not kidding. Why would I be kidding?" Rubbing at his bottom lip, he frowned. "We both know I'm not doing well, so how are you doing?"

Harmonie's hand curled around the counter next to her tightly, unsure what else to do with herself, as she watched him. What was she meant to do? Take him to St. Mungo's- that would be sensible. That would also be monumentally stupid. She could try and talk to him about- well, about whatever it even was- but that would be wrong. She couldn't. It would feel as if she were intruding- like the people who said that they "understood" the loss of her parents. They "understood" her sadness. She'd wanted to murder them. She didn't understand what the boy was doing, and she wasn't going to pretend to.


"W-" Harm began, only to cut herself off. She didn't know what to say. What were you meant to say when you found yourself in a situation like this? Why would he even do this to himself? It was his fault- destroying himself, what-how did it-

"I don't know!" She let go of him, her eyes darting around the room- looking at him long enough, she'd knew she'd just end up accidentally killing him. "Why would you-Well, how am I meant to understand anything that-" Harm rambled, trying to make sense of it all.

"Urgh!" Her hands flew in the air irritatedly, doing her utmost not to pummel some sense into the boy.

His eyes were rooted to his shoes. It was safer this way. With his gaze on his feet, he didn't have to look at her. He didn't have to see her face as realization dawned, as she realized just why he was throwing up.

He didn't even want to think about it. He didn't want to be him anymore. What was wrong with him? He - He was an idiot. He should've thought this through. He should've realized what Bonheur wasn't going to go easy on him. Just because he thought of himself as some sort of messiah, it didn't mean it was true.

Tilting his head at her half-spoken words, he still didn't look up into her eyes. How could he? He'd have to face her and - and actually face his actions and - and -

He was struggling to breath. Forcing himself to calm his suddenly speeding heart, the boy gasped for air, staggering backwards as she let go of him. Managing to stay upright, he finally met her gaze.

"I have a - a problem." His words were phrased more like a question, and he let out a little growl, the heels of his hands digging into his eyes. "I have a problem," he repeated, this time less of a question but his voice wavered more.

Julian looked up at her, his eyes warily watching the path of her hands. He took a step back and then another. "Harmonie..." he held up his hands, blinking at her. "You don't - You wouldn't - I -"

Julian Rousseau did not make any sense. None, whatsoever. From what she was able to gather, Harmonie had already come to the conclusion that it was some sort of condition; something that was rooted in his psychology- that was forcing him to throw up. She'd never understood people with it- in fact, she was able to recall a distinct memory with Lodie- flicking through magazines, and finding an article about it. Apparently it was common for teenage girls. But the only reaction that the article had managed to get out of her from it was a dismissive snort, and Merlin knows that any attempt the journalist may have made in his piece to generate sympathy for sufferers of the disorders was completely wasted on Harmonie. There was no logic in it. Why would someone feel like it could ever be the solution? Solution to what? What was Julian trying to fix? Was there something so wrong that- and she hadn't noticed? This was happening because she hadn't been watching him closely enough. She hadn't been there- hadn't noticed a problem- this was her fault, wasn't it? Not being there for someone. Again.

"No shit." Harmonie laughed weakly in response, any lady-like concerns over her language long gone out of the window. She knew she ought to be more sensitive, but somehow, being more sensitive towards him would mean that she would have to accept he was damaged. He wasn't damaged. He was Juli, and he was fine. The Prideux raked her hair away from her face, exhaling loudly. Except he wasn't, was he? She moved to lean against the counter, arms folded across her chest tiredly. She had to learn to be better at looking after people. She'd done a terrible job with Lodie- abandoning her in Canada- and she would not do the same with her friends.

Her gaze flitted upwards from her feet to his face as he repeated himself. "Why?" Harmonie asked quietly. She wouldn't be able to save him from himself. How was she meant to do that? How was she meant to help him? What was she meant to do?

"Relax, Rousseau." Harm narrowed her eyes at him, her arms dropping obediently to her side. "You know that I pride myself in my self-control."

He shrugged his shoulders helplessly, staring blankly down at the counter before him. It was almost funny that no matter how many times he heard it, no matter how many times it got hammered into his head that if he kept doing this he'd waste away to nothing and die, it never sank in. At least, not until he'd finally wrapped it around his head that he had a problem.

Taking a deep breath, he stared down at his hands for a moment, wringing them together. He was sick - in more ways than one. He was sick of this, of always ended up back in this situation no matter what he did. He was sick of looking at his hands, knowing that half the problem was ramming them down his throat. And he was sick - physically sick. Swallowing against the nauseous feeling rising from the pit of his stomach, he inhaled deeply again.

Julian's eyes sliding closed, he opened them again at her question, meeting her gaze before looking away. "That's the million dollar question, isn't it? Why?" He looked back up at her before giving his head a small shake and staring at all the empty plates around him. "I don't know," he murmured, holding his head in his hands. "Sometimes I think I do. Sometimes I think it's because I can just - forget. Forget whatever problem it is making my life a living a hell. But obviously that's not right, or I would've started years ago. Or maybe it's just stress and eating makes it better. And then I just don't want to deal with digesting." He shrugged his shoulders.

"In the grand scheme of things, does it really matter? Because to me, why isn't the question. Why I can't stop?" He'd begun pacing, his hands clasped behind his back as he strode before her, and he hadn't even noticed. Once he had, he stopped in front of her, searching her brown gaze. "That's the question. To me, it's the only one that really matters anymore."

It was that question that had been running through his head months ago, when he'd first been trying to stop. He hadn't had the answer then, and most certainly didn't have it now.

"How could I have possibly forgotten, you're Harmonie de Venin, queen of self-control." Despite everything, a corner of his mouth turned upwards into the beginnings of a smile.