Please note that this chapter and this story contains triggers for anorexia, bulimia, and self-injury. Please don't read this is it will trigger you. Please be safe.
Prologue - How It All Began
He could say that he didn't know when it started. He could say he didn't know what drove him to do it in the first place. He could say any manner of things, but Draco Malfoy was tired of tasting lies. He wanted the taste of food on his tongue, he wanted his stomach to be full, he wanted to not mind having a full stomach. But right now he did mind, and he was in too deep. Sometimes he'd take baby steps to recovery by himself, but then he'd trip and end up back to where he'd started. It was too hard to fight and fighting it was something he'd given up on.
It had started the summer before his sixth year at Hogwarts. He had just received his assignment from the Dark Lord to kill the Headmaster – that or be killed himself. This assignment following so shortly his father's sentencing to Azkaban was a breaking point. The breaking point.
When he'd returned home that night, he'd pushed his mother aside, and stumbled into his bathroom. His mind was a chaotic swirl of images and words that struck a new kind of fear in his abdomen and he could physically feel his stomach churning with all of the recent events. The acids burning his insides as they sloshed around within him. Dropping to his knees and taking several deep breaths, Draco stared at the clear water in the toilet bowl. With one hand grasping the porcelain rim, he raised the other to his mouth and stuck one long finger down his throat.
When he hit his gag reflex, his shoulders bucked and heaved forward, his throat muscles strained, his stomach burned, but nothing came up. Draco closed his eyes for a moment before trying again, keeping his finger in his throat until he could bear it no longer. This time was more productive. He spat out a small mouthful of stomach acid and half digested food. The brown-red half liquid sank to the bottom of the bowl. He tried one more time with the same amount of success before he heard his mother pounding on the door, demanding to know if he was alright. Draco sneered that of course he was alright and flushed the toilet before swirling some mouthwash to rid himself of the taste of bile.
He went throughout the rest of his day, keeping an air of normalcy while alternately feeling ridiculously giddy and extremely afraid. His stomach had stopped its frantic churning; it was just his mind that was left whirring now. For those couple of minutes in the bathroom, when it had been just him and the cold, white toilet bowl, things had been quiet – they had made sense. In the bathroom everything was narrowed down to him, his stomach, the toilet, and throwing up. But outside that little room, in the real world, life was complicated and Draco Malfoy was scared.
So yes, he did remember the first time clearly. He did know what had triggered all of this. He did know why he had started his descent. And maybe that was why he couldn't find a strong enough reason to stop.
Author's Note: First off, thanks to my lovely beta, WickedTorchwoodFan. Secondly, I was (and am) rather afraid of posting this story, because I thought it might be triggering or offensive and, honestly, if it is, I would love to be told so in a review. I don't want to be responsible for someting harmful. Third, I like this story, but my updates will be sporadic - at best. Reviews make me want to write though.