Beautiful Thing, Eloise/Tonks, eating disorder themes
Title: Beautiful Thing
Author: animimares
Beta: confiteor_3
Word Count: ~ 4500
Characters/Pairing: Mostly Eloise Midgeon centric, mentions of Eloise/Tonks, Eloise/OMC and Tonks/OFC. You don’t know who Eloise is? Identity.
Summary: When she looks at herself in the mirror, she sees a body bulging from chocolate and too much whipped cream. Perhaps it’s about time she tries to lose a few pounds. Eloise hates her looks. Always did. Now she is going to do something about it.
Warnings: Eating disorder themes. Angst all over the place. Weird writing structure and weird story telling.
Notes: This story is built on the wikipedia article on anorexia nervosa. Thanks to my beta for encouraging me, thanks to my girlfriend for being wonderful. Thanks to shiny_crystal for help on the itsy bit of German that's featured in this story (and if you don't know German, the translation would be something like: "You're beautiful", "I'm not", "Yes, you are", "Not", "Too"). Reviews are hugged and loved. Enjoy!
_____
No one thinks Eloise is beautiful, not even herself. Actually, of all the people Eloise knows, she’s probably the one who thinks the least of her appearance. When she looks at herself in the mirror, she sees a body bulging from chocolate and too much whipped cream. Perhaps it’s about time she tries to lose a few pounds.
…
At Hogwarts they had called her Eloise of Zits.
The name sounded fit for a member of the Greek royalty if you didn’t know what they meant by it, but of course Eloise did. She might have been a Hufflepuff, but she wasn’t stupid. Neither was she very good at ignoring their name-calling - not like Loony Luna Lovegood who never seemed to care one way or the other.
She remembers walking in on Zacharias Smith talking to a group of Ravenclaw boys in the library once. They had been discussing girls they thought pretty and she had tried not to eavesdrop, concentrating instead on her book, swinging her feet under the table as she mouthed the words on page 31 slowly and silently.
“What! Pansy Parkinson? You can’t be serious - she’s a hag!”
“Well, at least she’s not half as bad as Eloise Midgeon from your House, Smith.”
Zacharias snorted. “True. I mean, if every one of Midgeon’s spots was a member of the Inquisition Squad, Umbridge would have no trouble taking over the school. She’d have enough people for an entire army; I tell you, there must be over a hundred on her face alone.”
The entire group had choked on laughter, while Eloise, safely hidden behind thick shelves of old tomes, closed her book and put it in her bag, keeping quiet as not to reveal her hiding place. Then she went up to her dormitory in silence, locked herself in the bathroom and did her best to avoid looking in the mirror. Before midnight, the many words about blonde hair and blue eyes in her tiny, yellow notebook were erased.
Her hurt, however, she couldn’t wipe away.
…
Ugly Eloise. Spotty Eloise. Fat Eloise.
…
She watches Nymphadora Tonks from afar, just like she had watched Ron Weasley in her fourth year. Eloise thinks it must be nice to be able to change one’s appearance at will and admires the way Tonks is always perfect. Perfect skin and perfect size and perfect hair.
When dumping another case to be achieved on Eloise’s desk, Tonks always sends her a brief smile, winking as she greets her with her infamous “Wotcher”. It makes Eloise’s insides flutter and go hungry, for sweets and kisses and sex. These encounters never last more than a minute, but Eloise savours them and it makes her do her very best as she copies the files she’s been given. She even double checks for grammar or spelling errors as not to turn in anything less than perfect for someone as perfect as Tonks.
But she never sets her hopes too high. For someone like her, that would be dangerous.
…
One morning Tonks has brought donuts with her to the office and the entire Auror staff gathers around her like a herd of starving cattle to get their hands on some. Not Eloise, though; she remains seated, correcting the case act on Parkinson so it can be returned to Tonks two days before it’s due. Eloise prefers being on time and Tonks is always happy and smiling when she has finished in advance, so she always does - without slacking on the quality, of course. Slacking on quality wouldn’t do. Not when it comes to Tonks.
“Wotcher, Eloise,” Tonks says and it’s the first time she uses Eloise’s given name. Looking up, Eloise hopes she isn’t blushing. “I saved you a donut, since you were the only one among these lazy bastards that seemed too busy to eat.” As Tonks looks over her shoulder at the Aurors chatting over coffee and donuts like cops in some American movie, Eloise notices that her hair is the same colour as candyfloss. Eloise loves candyfloss, even though she doesn’t eat it anymore. At the moment she doesn’t touch sweets at all. Hasn’t done so for a while.
Tonks puts the donut covered in pink icing the same shade as Tonks’ hair on her desk where it stares at Eloise with its lone obesity-increasing and fat-dripping eye, begging her to eat it, if only because it’s from Tonks.
Donuts are not a part of Eloise’s diet, but she takes it anyway and tells Tonks thanks, meaning it with all her heart, because Tonks giving her a donut must mean she has noticed her and that is more than Eloise had ever dared dream of.
She can always make a detour to the bathroom afterwards and throw up to make sure it won’t disrupt her “salad and no calories” program.
…
She doesn’t have time to go to the bathroom before she comes home and then it’s too late. Eloise is angry with herself, because she can feel the donut already adding weight to her fat corpus, turning the lovely gift from Tonks into something as disgusting as her own body.
As punishment she finds the chocolate biscuits that her mother has sent her from Germany, opening the bag and putting it on the table - close enough for her to smell its thick delicious aroma when she sits down. For two hours Eloise sits at the table and smells the cookies without taking a single one, ignoring her stomach as it rumbles from hunger and her throat that feels dry from thirst. If she ever wants to become pretty and good enough for Tonks to even consider her, then she needs to get control over her body.
…
No one will ever love you; not with a face, a body, like that.
…
There are rumours about Tonks and the Minister’s personal secretary, Janet Hutch. Having received the news once again indirectly by listening to gossip, Eloise stares at her reflection after she gets home, realising that Tonks may very well like women, but she will never like Eloise, because Eloise is not pretty enough for anyone to like her in that way. She’s still fat, though she has not eaten anything the past two days, only drinking water when she feels faint and ready to black out.
Once it was her spots, now it’s her weight.
Eloise never liked herself much.
…
During her year at Die Akademie Zauberflöte in Berlin where she finished school, Eloise met Bernhard and he became her first boyfriend. He was not particularly good-looking or bright, but he did make Eloise feel part of the group - because all the other girls in her class had boyfriends and to Eloise all the other girls were flawless.
“Du bist so schön,” he said to her one evening when her parents weren’t home and they had the house all to themselves. They had spent the previous hour snogging and even though it wasn’t exactly revolting, Eloise didn’t understand the fuss her friends at school always made of boys and kissing. In her opinion it included far too much tongue.
“Das musst du ja sagen,” she pointed out because she knew she wasn’t, not really, and was very well aware that he knew it too.
“Du bist wirklich hübsch, Eloise,” he insisted, his hand sliding up her stomach to cradle one of her breasts a little too vehemently, but she didn’t protest. She was the only one in her class who was still a virgin and being a virgin was just yet another sign of her difference, her inability to fit in. Her unattractiveness.
“Nein.”
“Doch.”
He was flat-out lying, they both knew it, but Eloise thought it was kind of sweet and offered to suck him off in return. It was her first blowjob and the most horrible experience she had ever had, with Bernhard thrusting into her mouth so she almost gagged and the taste of his pre-come making her skin crawl - nevertheless, if there was one thing she’d learnt to appreciate it was compliments and she wouldn’t let him saunter off without her having shown her gratitude.
After all, she was more than lucky that he wanted to be with her in the first place.
…
Janet Hutch is slim and fit. Janet Hutch has long, blonde hair. Janet Hutch has big breasts and legs that are never-ending. Janet Hutch is almost as perfect as Tonks and far more deserving of her than Eloise will ever be, because Eloise is worth nothing. Eloise is unlovable and ugly and if anyone saw her naked they’d vomit, she’s sure of it.
Therefore, Eloise empties her fridge and her cupboards and eats everything she can find in there - even the cheese with mould on it. She drinks milk from the carton and drowns the two bottles of expensive champagne she had saved for special occasions that will never come, since Eloise will never experience anything more special than her abnormal fatness and the acne that is taking over her face even though her mother promised her it would disappear with time.
Eloise is so ugly that, when she has devoured everything she can find of edible stuff in her home, looking at herself in the mirror with crumbs still clinging to her shirt, she has to run to the bathroom to throw up until her throat is sore and her tongue hurting.
She is so disgusting that she even makes herself bawl. She thinks as she curls up like a baby in the arms of a mother far away and long gone. An ironic smile is plastered on her lips as she presses her forehead against the cool tiles on the bathroom floor.
…
Only pretty girls get married in white dressing gowns. Fat girls would look too much like the cheesecake from which they’ve eaten one slice too many. You will never get married in a white dressing gown, because your body is made of 99 percent cheesecake and one percent tears.
…
Eloise smashes all the mirrors in her flat with her bare hands, not caring if she will be haunted by bad luck forever or has to spend an evening remembering the correct Healing Spells for the deep cuts in her skin. Apparently she was born unlucky; it can’t get any worse than this.
…
After she graduated from Die Akademie Zauberflöte, Eloise attended a school for magical arts in Heidelberg. She specialised in woodcraft and found that even though the German word for wood was neuter, it was the ideal material of which to shape perfect female bodies.
Yes, that year in college was filled with perfection.
Her new boyfriend, Erik, had mirrors on every vertical area of his bedroom, plus one attached to the ceiling. It was a special kink of his and even though Eloise hated watching him shag her, she never opened her mouth in objection. She was lucky that he found her attractive, wasn’t she? So how dare she blow her chance of being with a guy all her new college friends drooled over?
He whispered filthy things in her ear when he came.
“Lovin’ the image of yourself gettin’ fucked,” he would grunt. “Pretty little whore”. He was from Sweden and had a horrible accent when speaking German as well as English. However, Eloise learned to ignore it and managed to fake another orgasm until he was paying no more attention to her, too absorbed in his own pleasure.
She never came, but she was better at acting than she’d ever imagined herself to be.
Fortunately, she could concentrate on more satisfying things at school. Like the series of dancing goddesses she carved in oak for her graduation project.
…
Tonks stops in front of Eloise’s desk. Pushing the papers that are not to be turned in before tomorrow to the edge of the desk for Tonks to take, Eloise doesn’t look up, afraid that Tonks will be able to see her numbing pain. She has headaches on a daily basis now and she never stops feeling dizzy these days. Maybe she should stop with those bananas she eats in the morning. She has been rather inconsistent with her diet lately, eating breakfast before going to work. If she took another couple of days on nothing but water, she’ll probably be able to get rid of the layers of fat that has gathered under her breasts, making her resemble a whale.
“Eloise,” Tonks says and it’s the second time ever that she uses Eloise’s first name. Eloise still doesn’t look up, because now she feels sure that Tonks will suddenly realise she’s not fit to work with her anymore… if she sees how unkempt she’s become - her clothes baggy to hide away her hideous body… she will surely fire her.
“Do you want to go with us to the Leaky Cauldron for an afternoon beer,” there is a slight pause as if Tonks is considering her choice of words very closely, “maybe… grab some take-out on the way? I know a great Chinese place just dow…”
Freezing, Eloise stares up at her. Today Tonks’ hair is black, bordering on purplish-blue in the light, but her eyes are the same as always. Dark, twinkling and happy. For a second, Eloise wonders if maybe Tonks doesn’t have to eat only bananas to keep her natural shape with curvy hips and perfect, round breasts. A jealousy, an envy so vicious that it scares her, rises in her and Eloise stands up, feeling ready to flee. What does Tonks know of how it is being ugly and imperfect and not fitting in? She’s a Metamorphmagus; she fits in everywhere, having an ability to change her appearance to be exactly like she or anyone else wants it to be.
Eloise hates her. Eloise hates that she herself is so ugly when Tonks is so beautiful.
“No thanks,” she responds, her words a mere hiss, “I’m not feeling too well.”
She runs down the corridor, feeling Tonks’ eyes following her every step until she turns the corner. She’s not supposed to be so angry that she could cry, but she is. Suppressing the tears, however, she thinks about coming home and showing herself that she can take control of her own life.
Control is crucial.
…
She’s a goddess and you’re an insect. She’s a goddess and you’re nothing. She’s a goddess and you’re a mortal, kissing her feet to steal just a beam of her glory. Ugly Eloise. Spotty Eloise. Fat Eloise. You’re worthless. Weak.
…
When she gets home, Eloise decides that the punishment for being rude to Tonks and for herself to lose control like that must be severe. Therefore, she finds the handcuffs that one of her pervert boyfriends bought her once and chains herself to the headboard of her bed, naked. The key lands three feet away from the remains of the mirror that used to hang on her wall and this will teach her… no food and water for three days; maybe then she’ll start getting a grip on herself, since she’s unable to control even the simplest things at the moment.
It’s all about beauty and control. Everybody but Eloise seems to be perfectly capable of making it work; it’s only her who is so useless at everything that even going on a diet becomes a major battle. Even for a Hufflepuff she’s inadequate, and she knows what everybody thinks of Hufflepuffs, so it’s saying something.
She is thirsty, hungry and feels as if all her energy has been ripped from her very core. Thinking of Tonks, she remembers that the Daily Prophet wrote about her and Janet Hutch some days ago. They have broken up. Eloise knows that she shouldn’t care, because she’ll never have someone like Tonks wanting her. People like Tonks want beautiful girls or boys and Eloise is an ugly girl and would make an even uglier boy.
…
Eloise dreams that she is inside an ice cube. It’s cold and lonely and she keeps knocking on the ice walls, screaming for help, but her shouts only come out in puffs of frozen air. Everything in the dream is ice, even Eloise’s insides. Her heart is frozen and so are the contents of her stomach so she throws up giant ice cubicles that rip her throat open, causing her to suffocate. She likes being dead, because then she doesn’t have to feel anything.
And she is no longer hungry.
…
At least you’re not half as bad as Eloise Midgeon. At least you’re not half as bad as her.
…
Her head hurts and it feels as if her heart is missing every other beat. The light is too bright, or maybe the darkness is too black, she can’t decide which it is. Eloise tries to move, but can’t, though she can’t seem to remember why. The only thing she knows is that she’s tired and wants to sleep forever. Disappear, if it’s possible.
…
“It’ll only hurt for a little while, darling,” her mother had said that time Eloise got her first vaccination - for what, she doesn’t remember, “then it will be all good.” Her mother’s words echo in her head and suddenly she misses her so much. Germany is not all that far away compared to other places and especially not seeing as she can just take a Portkey, but still she feels abandoned and alone. Eloise doesn’t want to be alone anymore. She’s so tired of being afraid of her own self in the mirror.
…
Eloise wakes up and she’s not alone.
A wingless angel is standing in the doorway to her bedroom, watching her with dark, twinkling eyes. It reminds Eloise of the goddesses she carved in wood back in Germany, except its beauty is of a more touchable kind. Like icebergs or mountainsides. Its brown hair is falling into its eyes and its mouth is pursed in a pained expression.
An angel is not supposed to feel pain. Only Eloise is supposed to feel pain, because only Eloise has lost control of her world. Not the angel. The angel is perfect. Like Eloise wants to be.
“Where’s the key?” the angel asks, catching Eloise off guard. Her vision is kind of blurry and she can only register that her arms hurt and her chest is threatening to stop moving. Breathing demands too much energy, too much strength - a strength she doesn’t have, because Eloise was always weak and ugly and any other similar word you can think of.
“Aren’t you supposed to know that?” Eloise asks and the angel looks puzzled before it eyes something on the floor, picking it up and walking over to the bed. Not until its leaning over her to unfasten the handcuffs does Eloise recognise her.
It’s Tonks. Without the pink hair that Eloise has come to associate with her. Without the tall, slender built. Without the perfect skin and the nicely rounded breasts. Instead Tonks has a heart-shaped face and brown hair only a shade darker than Eloise’s own. Her breasts are a tad smaller than normally and not quite so perfectly round. Her hips and shoulders are broad, reminding Eloise of the ancient Earth Mother cults. She is nothing like the Tonks that Eloise is used to. The difference is striking, but not exactly unpleasant. Just different.
From the way Tonks is staring at her, Eloise wonders if she has changed as well. Maybe it has worked out; maybe her body has finally given in to her will and become beautiful. Sitting up, the handcuffs falling to the floor, she looks down and is disappointed. Her stomach is as gross and big as ever. She bites her lip and looks away, feeling herself shaking from the cold.
All she ever wanted was to be beautiful.
…
Once ugly. Always ugly. A leopard can’t change its spots.
…
“Please tell me you haven’t done this to yourself,” Tonks says and her normally cheerful voice has turned dark with… disappointment or sadness, Eloise can’t decide which, doesn’t really care either - or maybe she cares too much. Feeling herself blush, she suddenly realises that Tonks of all people is looking at her naked body; her fat, disgusting, horribly ugly, nude body. Now she will never again be able to look at Eloise and respect her. No one will. She has failed. She has failed one time too many.
“I hate that I can’t stop eating,” Eloise admits and it pains her to say the words, to raise her white flag. “I tried making it stop so I won’t keep getting bigger and bigger until I explode…” She can feel the tears break surface and it’s as if a wave of tears has been filling her up for so long that half of her body weight consists of nothing but salty water.
The silence is pregnant with discomfort. Eloise knows that now Tonks pities her. Just one more reason to hate herself - she never asked for their pity, she never asked for anything, she only asked for perfection and everybody else gets it while she is left behind, unable to keep up with them.
“What are you talki…” Tonks stops mid-sentence and leans in to grab her chin, forcing Eloise to face her and meet her gaze. “Do you know what you look like?” she asks and Eloise closes her eyes tightly, shaking her head to get free. Of course she knows what she looks like, of course she knows she’s ugly and fat and unlovable.Tonks doesn’t need to throw it in her face.
She wanted Tonks to notice her, look at her, but not like this. Not like this.
“I’d hoped you’d notice me when I got prettier, but I never did…” Eloise looks down at her hands. They remind her of a bear’s paws, they just need fur and she could be a bear - an animal. “I just kept eating. It’s so disgusting. I thought that if I stayed here, I couldn’t eat…” The sobs come out of nowhere and she throws herself sideways back onto the bed, turning her back on Tonks and burying her face in the sheets. She can hear Tonks breathe. Slowly. The beat of Eloise’s own heart is slower, though. She doesn’t care anymore. What does it matter? She failed at being perfect - but she should have known that from the very start.
…
You can never be like the goddesses you made of oak. There’s too much flesh. Too little substance and too much flesh.
…
The sound of footsteps makes her blink her eyes and the sunlight from her window is blocked by a pair of naked legs coming to a halt right in front of her. The thighs are filling up Eloise’s vision, the bed hiding the shins from view and the corner of her eye only allowing her to catch a glimpse of pink, pubic hair. Suddenly, before her eyes, they change from beautiful, healthy-looking legs to two sticks, bones seemingly trying to fight their way out of the skin.
Tonks is not supposed to look like a skeleton, Eloise thinks idly as she sits up, her eyes following the legs up to jutting hip-bones that remind her of horse carcasses in the desert then further up over a sunken stomach and a xylophone of ribs, the faintest hint of breasts, the skin that once cupped soft roundness hanging uselessly from her chest. This is not perfection and Tonks has always been perfection to Eloise - she doesn’t want to see this… this thing in front of her. This wasted, dying thing.
Raising her gaze to ask Tonks what she is doing, Eloise gasps, because the face looking back at her is her own. Like a mirror image, a reflection in a looking-glass, except the eyes give Tonks away, still dark and twinkling, but sorrowful.
“This is you,” Tonks says and Eloise’s eyes can’t stop their inspection of the cadaver she sees in front of her, “no matter what you think you look like, Eloise - this is you.” It’s the third time Tonks uses her given name and Eloise knows what she’s saying is true, by that fact alone.
Shaking her head, Eloise feels something break inside her. She just wanted to be beautiful, to be perfect, not to be ugly and for once to have control over something and then she ends up like that… It wasn’t what she wanted, she never wanted this.
“That isn’t me,” she whispers and the words feel like a dam breaking as tears sting in the corners of her eyes, ever so slowly breaking loose to run down her cheeks. Her chest hurts even more as her heart pumps blood around her body, making her skin prickle unpleasantly and her legs cramp. Tonks changes back into herself, the process happening in slow-motion before Eloise’s eyes. “I don’t want to be like that…” she continues and covers her face with her hands - the only thing she was ever good at; hiding. Blinking, she realises that her hands look exactly like Tonks’ did seconds before, like long-legged spiders from the jungle, hairy and so skinny that Eloise thinks they’ll break if she were to make a sudden move.
It’s not fair. Why doesn’t thin equal pretty? It’s not fair.
“I don’t want to be ugly anymore, Tonks.” It’s a whisper of defeat.
Tonks sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed, tugging Eloise to her chest - two almost-perfect rounded breasts pressing against Eloise as she hides her face at the crook of Tonks’ neck.
“You were never ugly,” she says and Eloise grips the front of her Auror-robes tightly, hands shaking. “You are perfect exactly as you are, Eloise.”
…
An eternity ago Eloise had a grandmother that was called Eliza. When Eloise was five she visited her in her small brick house in London and Grandmother Eliza had taken her hands and looked her in the eyes, humming happily.
“Aren’t you a perfect little masterpiece, my dear,” she had said and given Eloise a cupcake which Eloise had been able to eat without feeling guilty.
…
In the eyes of the beholder.
…
Eloise realises, as Tonks helps her get dressed, making ready to Apparate her to St. Mungo’s, that none of them are perfect. Tonks has a scar on her right hand that is still vivid red and will never disappear. If Eloise had Tonks’ gifts, she would once have thought hiding it, changing it into nothingness would be perfection.
Some spots are not meant to be removed, though, because perfection wouldn’t exist without them.
~ animimares
Author: animimares
Beta: confiteor_3
Word Count: ~ 4500
Characters/Pairing: Mostly Eloise Midgeon centric, mentions of Eloise/Tonks, Eloise/OMC and Tonks/OFC. You don’t know who Eloise is? Identity.
Summary: When she looks at herself in the mirror, she sees a body bulging from chocolate and too much whipped cream. Perhaps it’s about time she tries to lose a few pounds. Eloise hates her looks. Always did. Now she is going to do something about it.
Warnings: Eating disorder themes. Angst all over the place. Weird writing structure and weird story telling.
Notes: This story is built on the wikipedia article on anorexia nervosa. Thanks to my beta for encouraging me, thanks to my girlfriend for being wonderful. Thanks to shiny_crystal for help on the itsy bit of German that's featured in this story (and if you don't know German, the translation would be something like: "You're beautiful", "I'm not", "Yes, you are", "Not", "Too"). Reviews are hugged and loved. Enjoy!
_____
No one thinks Eloise is beautiful, not even herself. Actually, of all the people Eloise knows, she’s probably the one who thinks the least of her appearance. When she looks at herself in the mirror, she sees a body bulging from chocolate and too much whipped cream. Perhaps it’s about time she tries to lose a few pounds.
…
At Hogwarts they had called her Eloise of Zits.
The name sounded fit for a member of the Greek royalty if you didn’t know what they meant by it, but of course Eloise did. She might have been a Hufflepuff, but she wasn’t stupid. Neither was she very good at ignoring their name-calling - not like Loony Luna Lovegood who never seemed to care one way or the other.
She remembers walking in on Zacharias Smith talking to a group of Ravenclaw boys in the library once. They had been discussing girls they thought pretty and she had tried not to eavesdrop, concentrating instead on her book, swinging her feet under the table as she mouthed the words on page 31 slowly and silently.
“What! Pansy Parkinson? You can’t be serious - she’s a hag!”
“Well, at least she’s not half as bad as Eloise Midgeon from your House, Smith.”
Zacharias snorted. “True. I mean, if every one of Midgeon’s spots was a member of the Inquisition Squad, Umbridge would have no trouble taking over the school. She’d have enough people for an entire army; I tell you, there must be over a hundred on her face alone.”
The entire group had choked on laughter, while Eloise, safely hidden behind thick shelves of old tomes, closed her book and put it in her bag, keeping quiet as not to reveal her hiding place. Then she went up to her dormitory in silence, locked herself in the bathroom and did her best to avoid looking in the mirror. Before midnight, the many words about blonde hair and blue eyes in her tiny, yellow notebook were erased.
Her hurt, however, she couldn’t wipe away.
…
Ugly Eloise. Spotty Eloise. Fat Eloise.
…
She watches Nymphadora Tonks from afar, just like she had watched Ron Weasley in her fourth year. Eloise thinks it must be nice to be able to change one’s appearance at will and admires the way Tonks is always perfect. Perfect skin and perfect size and perfect hair.
When dumping another case to be achieved on Eloise’s desk, Tonks always sends her a brief smile, winking as she greets her with her infamous “Wotcher”. It makes Eloise’s insides flutter and go hungry, for sweets and kisses and sex. These encounters never last more than a minute, but Eloise savours them and it makes her do her very best as she copies the files she’s been given. She even double checks for grammar or spelling errors as not to turn in anything less than perfect for someone as perfect as Tonks.
But she never sets her hopes too high. For someone like her, that would be dangerous.
…
One morning Tonks has brought donuts with her to the office and the entire Auror staff gathers around her like a herd of starving cattle to get their hands on some. Not Eloise, though; she remains seated, correcting the case act on Parkinson so it can be returned to Tonks two days before it’s due. Eloise prefers being on time and Tonks is always happy and smiling when she has finished in advance, so she always does - without slacking on the quality, of course. Slacking on quality wouldn’t do. Not when it comes to Tonks.
“Wotcher, Eloise,” Tonks says and it’s the first time she uses Eloise’s given name. Looking up, Eloise hopes she isn’t blushing. “I saved you a donut, since you were the only one among these lazy bastards that seemed too busy to eat.” As Tonks looks over her shoulder at the Aurors chatting over coffee and donuts like cops in some American movie, Eloise notices that her hair is the same colour as candyfloss. Eloise loves candyfloss, even though she doesn’t eat it anymore. At the moment she doesn’t touch sweets at all. Hasn’t done so for a while.
Tonks puts the donut covered in pink icing the same shade as Tonks’ hair on her desk where it stares at Eloise with its lone obesity-increasing and fat-dripping eye, begging her to eat it, if only because it’s from Tonks.
Donuts are not a part of Eloise’s diet, but she takes it anyway and tells Tonks thanks, meaning it with all her heart, because Tonks giving her a donut must mean she has noticed her and that is more than Eloise had ever dared dream of.
She can always make a detour to the bathroom afterwards and throw up to make sure it won’t disrupt her “salad and no calories” program.
…
She doesn’t have time to go to the bathroom before she comes home and then it’s too late. Eloise is angry with herself, because she can feel the donut already adding weight to her fat corpus, turning the lovely gift from Tonks into something as disgusting as her own body.
As punishment she finds the chocolate biscuits that her mother has sent her from Germany, opening the bag and putting it on the table - close enough for her to smell its thick delicious aroma when she sits down. For two hours Eloise sits at the table and smells the cookies without taking a single one, ignoring her stomach as it rumbles from hunger and her throat that feels dry from thirst. If she ever wants to become pretty and good enough for Tonks to even consider her, then she needs to get control over her body.
…
No one will ever love you; not with a face, a body, like that.
…
There are rumours about Tonks and the Minister’s personal secretary, Janet Hutch. Having received the news once again indirectly by listening to gossip, Eloise stares at her reflection after she gets home, realising that Tonks may very well like women, but she will never like Eloise, because Eloise is not pretty enough for anyone to like her in that way. She’s still fat, though she has not eaten anything the past two days, only drinking water when she feels faint and ready to black out.
Once it was her spots, now it’s her weight.
Eloise never liked herself much.
…
During her year at Die Akademie Zauberflöte in Berlin where she finished school, Eloise met Bernhard and he became her first boyfriend. He was not particularly good-looking or bright, but he did make Eloise feel part of the group - because all the other girls in her class had boyfriends and to Eloise all the other girls were flawless.
“Du bist so schön,” he said to her one evening when her parents weren’t home and they had the house all to themselves. They had spent the previous hour snogging and even though it wasn’t exactly revolting, Eloise didn’t understand the fuss her friends at school always made of boys and kissing. In her opinion it included far too much tongue.
“Das musst du ja sagen,” she pointed out because she knew she wasn’t, not really, and was very well aware that he knew it too.
“Du bist wirklich hübsch, Eloise,” he insisted, his hand sliding up her stomach to cradle one of her breasts a little too vehemently, but she didn’t protest. She was the only one in her class who was still a virgin and being a virgin was just yet another sign of her difference, her inability to fit in. Her unattractiveness.
“Nein.”
“Doch.”
He was flat-out lying, they both knew it, but Eloise thought it was kind of sweet and offered to suck him off in return. It was her first blowjob and the most horrible experience she had ever had, with Bernhard thrusting into her mouth so she almost gagged and the taste of his pre-come making her skin crawl - nevertheless, if there was one thing she’d learnt to appreciate it was compliments and she wouldn’t let him saunter off without her having shown her gratitude.
After all, she was more than lucky that he wanted to be with her in the first place.
…
Janet Hutch is slim and fit. Janet Hutch has long, blonde hair. Janet Hutch has big breasts and legs that are never-ending. Janet Hutch is almost as perfect as Tonks and far more deserving of her than Eloise will ever be, because Eloise is worth nothing. Eloise is unlovable and ugly and if anyone saw her naked they’d vomit, she’s sure of it.
Therefore, Eloise empties her fridge and her cupboards and eats everything she can find in there - even the cheese with mould on it. She drinks milk from the carton and drowns the two bottles of expensive champagne she had saved for special occasions that will never come, since Eloise will never experience anything more special than her abnormal fatness and the acne that is taking over her face even though her mother promised her it would disappear with time.
Eloise is so ugly that, when she has devoured everything she can find of edible stuff in her home, looking at herself in the mirror with crumbs still clinging to her shirt, she has to run to the bathroom to throw up until her throat is sore and her tongue hurting.
She is so disgusting that she even makes herself bawl. She thinks as she curls up like a baby in the arms of a mother far away and long gone. An ironic smile is plastered on her lips as she presses her forehead against the cool tiles on the bathroom floor.
…
Only pretty girls get married in white dressing gowns. Fat girls would look too much like the cheesecake from which they’ve eaten one slice too many. You will never get married in a white dressing gown, because your body is made of 99 percent cheesecake and one percent tears.
…
Eloise smashes all the mirrors in her flat with her bare hands, not caring if she will be haunted by bad luck forever or has to spend an evening remembering the correct Healing Spells for the deep cuts in her skin. Apparently she was born unlucky; it can’t get any worse than this.
…
After she graduated from Die Akademie Zauberflöte, Eloise attended a school for magical arts in Heidelberg. She specialised in woodcraft and found that even though the German word for wood was neuter, it was the ideal material of which to shape perfect female bodies.
Yes, that year in college was filled with perfection.
Her new boyfriend, Erik, had mirrors on every vertical area of his bedroom, plus one attached to the ceiling. It was a special kink of his and even though Eloise hated watching him shag her, she never opened her mouth in objection. She was lucky that he found her attractive, wasn’t she? So how dare she blow her chance of being with a guy all her new college friends drooled over?
He whispered filthy things in her ear when he came.
“Lovin’ the image of yourself gettin’ fucked,” he would grunt. “Pretty little whore”. He was from Sweden and had a horrible accent when speaking German as well as English. However, Eloise learned to ignore it and managed to fake another orgasm until he was paying no more attention to her, too absorbed in his own pleasure.
She never came, but she was better at acting than she’d ever imagined herself to be.
Fortunately, she could concentrate on more satisfying things at school. Like the series of dancing goddesses she carved in oak for her graduation project.
…
Tonks stops in front of Eloise’s desk. Pushing the papers that are not to be turned in before tomorrow to the edge of the desk for Tonks to take, Eloise doesn’t look up, afraid that Tonks will be able to see her numbing pain. She has headaches on a daily basis now and she never stops feeling dizzy these days. Maybe she should stop with those bananas she eats in the morning. She has been rather inconsistent with her diet lately, eating breakfast before going to work. If she took another couple of days on nothing but water, she’ll probably be able to get rid of the layers of fat that has gathered under her breasts, making her resemble a whale.
“Eloise,” Tonks says and it’s the second time ever that she uses Eloise’s first name. Eloise still doesn’t look up, because now she feels sure that Tonks will suddenly realise she’s not fit to work with her anymore… if she sees how unkempt she’s become - her clothes baggy to hide away her hideous body… she will surely fire her.
“Do you want to go with us to the Leaky Cauldron for an afternoon beer,” there is a slight pause as if Tonks is considering her choice of words very closely, “maybe… grab some take-out on the way? I know a great Chinese place just dow…”
Freezing, Eloise stares up at her. Today Tonks’ hair is black, bordering on purplish-blue in the light, but her eyes are the same as always. Dark, twinkling and happy. For a second, Eloise wonders if maybe Tonks doesn’t have to eat only bananas to keep her natural shape with curvy hips and perfect, round breasts. A jealousy, an envy so vicious that it scares her, rises in her and Eloise stands up, feeling ready to flee. What does Tonks know of how it is being ugly and imperfect and not fitting in? She’s a Metamorphmagus; she fits in everywhere, having an ability to change her appearance to be exactly like she or anyone else wants it to be.
Eloise hates her. Eloise hates that she herself is so ugly when Tonks is so beautiful.
“No thanks,” she responds, her words a mere hiss, “I’m not feeling too well.”
She runs down the corridor, feeling Tonks’ eyes following her every step until she turns the corner. She’s not supposed to be so angry that she could cry, but she is. Suppressing the tears, however, she thinks about coming home and showing herself that she can take control of her own life.
Control is crucial.
…
She’s a goddess and you’re an insect. She’s a goddess and you’re nothing. She’s a goddess and you’re a mortal, kissing her feet to steal just a beam of her glory. Ugly Eloise. Spotty Eloise. Fat Eloise. You’re worthless. Weak.
…
When she gets home, Eloise decides that the punishment for being rude to Tonks and for herself to lose control like that must be severe. Therefore, she finds the handcuffs that one of her pervert boyfriends bought her once and chains herself to the headboard of her bed, naked. The key lands three feet away from the remains of the mirror that used to hang on her wall and this will teach her… no food and water for three days; maybe then she’ll start getting a grip on herself, since she’s unable to control even the simplest things at the moment.
It’s all about beauty and control. Everybody but Eloise seems to be perfectly capable of making it work; it’s only her who is so useless at everything that even going on a diet becomes a major battle. Even for a Hufflepuff she’s inadequate, and she knows what everybody thinks of Hufflepuffs, so it’s saying something.
She is thirsty, hungry and feels as if all her energy has been ripped from her very core. Thinking of Tonks, she remembers that the Daily Prophet wrote about her and Janet Hutch some days ago. They have broken up. Eloise knows that she shouldn’t care, because she’ll never have someone like Tonks wanting her. People like Tonks want beautiful girls or boys and Eloise is an ugly girl and would make an even uglier boy.
…
Eloise dreams that she is inside an ice cube. It’s cold and lonely and she keeps knocking on the ice walls, screaming for help, but her shouts only come out in puffs of frozen air. Everything in the dream is ice, even Eloise’s insides. Her heart is frozen and so are the contents of her stomach so she throws up giant ice cubicles that rip her throat open, causing her to suffocate. She likes being dead, because then she doesn’t have to feel anything.
And she is no longer hungry.
…
At least you’re not half as bad as Eloise Midgeon. At least you’re not half as bad as her.
…
Her head hurts and it feels as if her heart is missing every other beat. The light is too bright, or maybe the darkness is too black, she can’t decide which it is. Eloise tries to move, but can’t, though she can’t seem to remember why. The only thing she knows is that she’s tired and wants to sleep forever. Disappear, if it’s possible.
…
“It’ll only hurt for a little while, darling,” her mother had said that time Eloise got her first vaccination - for what, she doesn’t remember, “then it will be all good.” Her mother’s words echo in her head and suddenly she misses her so much. Germany is not all that far away compared to other places and especially not seeing as she can just take a Portkey, but still she feels abandoned and alone. Eloise doesn’t want to be alone anymore. She’s so tired of being afraid of her own self in the mirror.
…
Eloise wakes up and she’s not alone.
A wingless angel is standing in the doorway to her bedroom, watching her with dark, twinkling eyes. It reminds Eloise of the goddesses she carved in wood back in Germany, except its beauty is of a more touchable kind. Like icebergs or mountainsides. Its brown hair is falling into its eyes and its mouth is pursed in a pained expression.
An angel is not supposed to feel pain. Only Eloise is supposed to feel pain, because only Eloise has lost control of her world. Not the angel. The angel is perfect. Like Eloise wants to be.
“Where’s the key?” the angel asks, catching Eloise off guard. Her vision is kind of blurry and she can only register that her arms hurt and her chest is threatening to stop moving. Breathing demands too much energy, too much strength - a strength she doesn’t have, because Eloise was always weak and ugly and any other similar word you can think of.
“Aren’t you supposed to know that?” Eloise asks and the angel looks puzzled before it eyes something on the floor, picking it up and walking over to the bed. Not until its leaning over her to unfasten the handcuffs does Eloise recognise her.
It’s Tonks. Without the pink hair that Eloise has come to associate with her. Without the tall, slender built. Without the perfect skin and the nicely rounded breasts. Instead Tonks has a heart-shaped face and brown hair only a shade darker than Eloise’s own. Her breasts are a tad smaller than normally and not quite so perfectly round. Her hips and shoulders are broad, reminding Eloise of the ancient Earth Mother cults. She is nothing like the Tonks that Eloise is used to. The difference is striking, but not exactly unpleasant. Just different.
From the way Tonks is staring at her, Eloise wonders if she has changed as well. Maybe it has worked out; maybe her body has finally given in to her will and become beautiful. Sitting up, the handcuffs falling to the floor, she looks down and is disappointed. Her stomach is as gross and big as ever. She bites her lip and looks away, feeling herself shaking from the cold.
All she ever wanted was to be beautiful.
…
Once ugly. Always ugly. A leopard can’t change its spots.
…
“Please tell me you haven’t done this to yourself,” Tonks says and her normally cheerful voice has turned dark with… disappointment or sadness, Eloise can’t decide which, doesn’t really care either - or maybe she cares too much. Feeling herself blush, she suddenly realises that Tonks of all people is looking at her naked body; her fat, disgusting, horribly ugly, nude body. Now she will never again be able to look at Eloise and respect her. No one will. She has failed. She has failed one time too many.
“I hate that I can’t stop eating,” Eloise admits and it pains her to say the words, to raise her white flag. “I tried making it stop so I won’t keep getting bigger and bigger until I explode…” She can feel the tears break surface and it’s as if a wave of tears has been filling her up for so long that half of her body weight consists of nothing but salty water.
The silence is pregnant with discomfort. Eloise knows that now Tonks pities her. Just one more reason to hate herself - she never asked for their pity, she never asked for anything, she only asked for perfection and everybody else gets it while she is left behind, unable to keep up with them.
“What are you talki…” Tonks stops mid-sentence and leans in to grab her chin, forcing Eloise to face her and meet her gaze. “Do you know what you look like?” she asks and Eloise closes her eyes tightly, shaking her head to get free. Of course she knows what she looks like, of course she knows she’s ugly and fat and unlovable.Tonks doesn’t need to throw it in her face.
She wanted Tonks to notice her, look at her, but not like this. Not like this.
“I’d hoped you’d notice me when I got prettier, but I never did…” Eloise looks down at her hands. They remind her of a bear’s paws, they just need fur and she could be a bear - an animal. “I just kept eating. It’s so disgusting. I thought that if I stayed here, I couldn’t eat…” The sobs come out of nowhere and she throws herself sideways back onto the bed, turning her back on Tonks and burying her face in the sheets. She can hear Tonks breathe. Slowly. The beat of Eloise’s own heart is slower, though. She doesn’t care anymore. What does it matter? She failed at being perfect - but she should have known that from the very start.
…
You can never be like the goddesses you made of oak. There’s too much flesh. Too little substance and too much flesh.
…
The sound of footsteps makes her blink her eyes and the sunlight from her window is blocked by a pair of naked legs coming to a halt right in front of her. The thighs are filling up Eloise’s vision, the bed hiding the shins from view and the corner of her eye only allowing her to catch a glimpse of pink, pubic hair. Suddenly, before her eyes, they change from beautiful, healthy-looking legs to two sticks, bones seemingly trying to fight their way out of the skin.
Tonks is not supposed to look like a skeleton, Eloise thinks idly as she sits up, her eyes following the legs up to jutting hip-bones that remind her of horse carcasses in the desert then further up over a sunken stomach and a xylophone of ribs, the faintest hint of breasts, the skin that once cupped soft roundness hanging uselessly from her chest. This is not perfection and Tonks has always been perfection to Eloise - she doesn’t want to see this… this thing in front of her. This wasted, dying thing.
Raising her gaze to ask Tonks what she is doing, Eloise gasps, because the face looking back at her is her own. Like a mirror image, a reflection in a looking-glass, except the eyes give Tonks away, still dark and twinkling, but sorrowful.
“This is you,” Tonks says and Eloise’s eyes can’t stop their inspection of the cadaver she sees in front of her, “no matter what you think you look like, Eloise - this is you.” It’s the third time Tonks uses her given name and Eloise knows what she’s saying is true, by that fact alone.
Shaking her head, Eloise feels something break inside her. She just wanted to be beautiful, to be perfect, not to be ugly and for once to have control over something and then she ends up like that… It wasn’t what she wanted, she never wanted this.
“That isn’t me,” she whispers and the words feel like a dam breaking as tears sting in the corners of her eyes, ever so slowly breaking loose to run down her cheeks. Her chest hurts even more as her heart pumps blood around her body, making her skin prickle unpleasantly and her legs cramp. Tonks changes back into herself, the process happening in slow-motion before Eloise’s eyes. “I don’t want to be like that…” she continues and covers her face with her hands - the only thing she was ever good at; hiding. Blinking, she realises that her hands look exactly like Tonks’ did seconds before, like long-legged spiders from the jungle, hairy and so skinny that Eloise thinks they’ll break if she were to make a sudden move.
It’s not fair. Why doesn’t thin equal pretty? It’s not fair.
“I don’t want to be ugly anymore, Tonks.” It’s a whisper of defeat.
Tonks sighs and sits down on the edge of the bed, tugging Eloise to her chest - two almost-perfect rounded breasts pressing against Eloise as she hides her face at the crook of Tonks’ neck.
“You were never ugly,” she says and Eloise grips the front of her Auror-robes tightly, hands shaking. “You are perfect exactly as you are, Eloise.”
…
An eternity ago Eloise had a grandmother that was called Eliza. When Eloise was five she visited her in her small brick house in London and Grandmother Eliza had taken her hands and looked her in the eyes, humming happily.
“Aren’t you a perfect little masterpiece, my dear,” she had said and given Eloise a cupcake which Eloise had been able to eat without feeling guilty.
…
In the eyes of the beholder.
…
Eloise realises, as Tonks helps her get dressed, making ready to Apparate her to St. Mungo’s, that none of them are perfect. Tonks has a scar on her right hand that is still vivid red and will never disappear. If Eloise had Tonks’ gifts, she would once have thought hiding it, changing it into nothingness would be perfection.
Some spots are not meant to be removed, though, because perfection wouldn’t exist without them.
~ animimares