A/N: This chapter has references to Bulimia, Anorexia, Self-harm, drug abuse, and an abusive relationship, please don’t read if these are triggers for you. I really don't want anyone to read this story if you have any triggers even slightly like the ones above.
Epilogue: You Are Beautiful
“It’s a long list, Angelina, George. Its going to take a long time for her to fully recover and she may not because of the severity of some of the…ah, issues. She’ll be under our custody for quite a while,” a voice said, it would be a kind voice that I would get use to, one that would be in my life for the rest of it.
“Just give it to us, what’s the matter with Roxanne.” Mum, she sounded more angry than anything.
“All right then. Anorexia; Bulimia which I believe lead to her Anorexia; Malnourishment and dehydration, which would go along with her Anorexia and Bulimia; her bones are very weak and brittle from lack of calcium, the same with her hair, that’s why its white at the roots and has stopped growing in; she has sleep deprivation; we’ve found traces of nicotine and marijuana in her blood; there’s a lot of strange cuts on her arms and legs, which by the way their clustered and the way they’ve been cut we would consider it self-harm; she has bruises all over her which I believe may have come out of an abusive relationship; and she’s miscarried a pair of twins last week, which we’ve already taken care of. We’ve also set up an I.V. drip and have a line going into her for food and water. She’s very lucky that she’s still alive, I’m surprised that she hasn’t fainted sooner, or broken any bones when she fell. Your daughter has no idea how lucky she is.”
How lucky I was? She was going to make me fat again, make me ugly again, she was going to take Landon away from me.
I opened my eyes.
It was so bright and everything hurt, my body, my head, everything. I tried to move my arms, but there was needles stuck in both of them.
“Roxanne, I’m Healer Rose Zeller,” said the voice, the voice that told mum and dad everything that was apparently wrong with me, “welcome to St. Mungo’s rehab ward.”
I suddenly wished that I wasn’t so lucky.
Three Years Later
“Good morning everyone, this is Roxy-Rox your DJ this morning on Toast and Tea,” I said into my magical microphone, I put my feet up on the soundboard, breaking the rules just like I did every morning since I started. “I hope your all ready to get up, here’s ‘What Makes You Beautiful’ by the one and only, One Direction.”
I pressed the button to turn the song on and put my feet down under the desk, feeling something squishy. I screamed when the squishy thing grabbed my leg and began pulling at it.
I tried kicking it with my other foot, but it grabbed that leg too.
Then a head popped out.
“Who’re you?” he asked, I could hear the sleep thick in his voice. Who would fall asleep under the soundboard counter?
“What? Who are you?” I asked him, trying to pull my legs out of his grasp, I didn’t even notice that I was back on air.
“Sean, Sean Finnigan, from Finn and Gin in the afternoon,” he said, finally letting go of my legs. I still had yet to meet all the other hosts, even though I had been working at the radio station for the last year and a half. “And you?”
“Roxanne Weasley,” I told him, then I heard the tapping on the glass, we both turned our heads to look at the station producer. He mouthed the words ‘you’re on air’.
“Oh,” I squeaked, but before I could grab the microphone, Sean had it in his hands.
“Hey everyone, its Sean from Finn and Gin in the afternoon. I thought that I would stop by and hangout with Roxy-Rox this morning, here’s ‘I Won’t Give Up’ by Jason Mraz.”
We were off air again, I took this as my chance to eat. I really did find it ironic that I always had coffee and a bagel (or muffin) for breakfast when my show was called ‘Toast and Tea’. Sean seemed to have thought that this was funny to, as he called me out on it.
“Coffee and a bagel?” he said, laughing, “really?”
I smiled, I didn’t have the choice in my show name, unlike him. “No choice.”
Really I was just happy that I didn’t have to eat every meal supervised again. Healer Zeller finally told mum and dad that I could eat one meal by myself. I was finally able to move out too, but I still had to be with someone while I ate (to make sure I ate everything) and for an hour afterwards (to make sure that I didn’t throw anything up).
At first, when I got home, I was under constant supervision. Mum wouldn’t let me out of her sight for the first few months, I wasn’t even allowed to sleep in my room by myself. But slowly she let up as I started to improve more and more, I could sleep by myself (with my door wide open), I could make my own plate of food (which always had more vegetables than anything, but I was getting better), and I could get a job (which was just at the shop, but I wasn’t complaining). Dad had been a bit better about letting me have my own freedom, he would let me eat upstairs in the flat, but that was only because LeeAnne was up there with the twins (seeing as she and Freddie moved there once the twins were born). Dad would also let me be by myself for the hour after I had eaten, but I was always in one of the shop aisles or at the cash register or in someone’s sight at all times.
So while I was gaining a bit of trust, I was also still being constantly watched.
But the first year was the hardest. It had been really hard to not relapse, and sometimes I did, but then I was dragged back to St. Mungo’s and had a hundred or so tests taken.
The second year had been better, I was still living at home, but I wasn’t being constantly watched. I still had to eat every meal supervised, but it was okay for me to eat breakfast with dad in the morning, go to the Burrow for lunch (which I didn’t do often, I still can’t eat what Nana Molly would consider a ‘proper’ serving), and then have dinner with Freddie and LeeAnne.
About halfway through the year, I put my resume in an ad for the radio station, where I’ve been working at ever since. This did cause a bit of a problem, but I was able to work it through.
Now I’m working at a job that I enjoy, can eat breakfast by myself, and have a flat that I live at by myself. I don’t have any mirrors in there, and dad actually got rid of the ‘Insult Mirror’ at home.
I went through a lot of therapy, and one of the things that I think started my ‘Sickness’ as we call it, was being told that I was ugly by the mirror at a very small age.
And I regret every minute of my ‘Sickness’. I missed out on a lot because of it, I didn’t get to go back to school with my brother and cousins. They did sign me out to attend the Memorial Ceremony for those who died in the Second Wizarding War (like my Uncle Fred and Aunt Roxanne, who my brother and I were name), and my graduation, though I didn’t really feel like I deserved to go, or get my diploma (I did do all the homework and class work that I missed when I skipped class everyday. Then I took my N.E.W.T.’s later in the summer).
I did get to be there for when LeeAnne had the twins, my nephew’s Benji and Johnny. I was even allowed to hold them, but only one at a time, I was still really weak.
But other than that, I was stuck in the hospital until the end of July, and even then I was still there almost everyday because mum wouldn’t let me go to the shop with dad. She thought that dad would get distracted and I would hurt myself again.
“Roxanne, we’re on air,” said Sean, he handed me my microphone, then grabbed the spare, plugging it in. “Hi, everyone! And good morning!”
I smiled and made a bit of conversation with Sean, who seemed to want to know everything about me.
Two Months Later
“Wow,” said Sean, looking around my living room and kitchen/dining room. “Nice.”
“Thanks,” I told him, then noticed that his eyes were trained to the collage on the wall, Dominique (with the help of Louis) had cut out pictures of all of us (cousins, siblings, aunts, uncles, my parents, our grandparents) and put it together, some were upside down, some right side up, but the picture said ‘YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL’, with our red hair. “That’s a long story.”
He turned to me, I still had yet to talk about my ‘Sickness’ with him, but he didn’t ask any questions, just continued on looking around.
“Do you have kids that I don’t know about?” he asked, I sighed, he met the twins a week ago, along with my parents and Freddie (well officially met us, his family owns the bakery on Diagon Alley, and Freddie and I often went down there and stole cookies or whatever treat we could grab).
“Its just for when the twins visit,” I told him, but it could’ve been for my children, if I hadn’t’ve miscarried. Their room had a bed, which was their when I moved in, and I added an old crib that I found for a few Galleons at a resale shop in Diagon Alley.
“Oh,” he said, and then went off looking again.
“Are you…searching for something?” I asked him, I finding him in my bedroom.
“Yes, well…uh, no.”
“Sean, I know there’s no mirror.”
When I moved in, the only mirror there was, was in the bathroom (seeing as my apartment only had one, it connected the two bedrooms). When Molly came over for the first time and saw that I was just using an old towel to cover it, she made me a special cover for my mirror. It was an old, plain pillow case, but she opened one of the sides, sewed the top close, and wrote in her best handwriting, ‘You Are Not PRETTY, You Are BEAUTIFUL’.
I’ve never looked in a mirror since.
“Why? And what’s with the whole ‘You Are Beautiful’ thing, I mean you are, but why?” he asked, coming out of the bathroom, I sighed and sat down on my bed.
“It’s a lo-“
“I know it’s a long story, but…but I love you, and I want to know.”
I knew he meant it, not like Landon all those years ago. Sean really did love me, and I loved him too.
“I…Sean…I love you too,” I told him, and I met his eyes for a second. “But I’m just not ready, I can barely talk about this to my Healer.”
It was true, I still choked up when I talked about my ‘Sickness’ to Healer Zeller.
“Please, Anne, tell me,” he whispered, he took both of my always cold hands into his big warm ones. “I need to know, I need to understand why I have to make sure you eat everything on your plate, why I have to watch you for an hour after you eat. I need to know why I can’t have razors when we move in together and why your afraid of mirrors.”
I felt a few tears come to my eyes, “because I hurt myself a lot when I was seventeen,” I told him, he nodded, as if he understood. “I made myself sick everyday, I cut myself every night, I let this stupid boy beat me up and get me pregnant. I almost died, Sean. Because I thought that I could control myself, because I thought that I was fat, and ugly, and a slut. I thought that I would be okay if I didn’t eat anything for several days straight, and then throw up the little I did eat after that. I wouldn’t even let myself eat a quarter of a piece of dry toast.”
“Roxanne,” he pulled me into his arms and I let the tears in my eyes spill over. “I’ll never let you do that again.”
“Thank you,” I told him, “thank you so much.”
He moved into my flat two days later.
Ten Months Later
I knocked lightly on the familiar door, I was so scared. What if, kept coming to my mind, what if, what if, what if?
I opened the door, unable to wait. I was slightly shocked though to see Healer Macmillan, he was well known in my family as the ‘Pregnancy Healer’. I suddenly felt as if I was interrupting a private moment.
“Roxanne, come in, we were just having some tea,” said Healer Zeller, she pointed to the chair that I always consider mine. “I’ll pour you a cup.”
“No thank you,” I told her, sitting down nervously, I was shaking.
“Are you okay?” asked Healer Macmillan, I nodded, though it was obvious that I wasn’t.
“Roxanne, just say it,” said Healer Zeller, she had poured me a cup anyways, I glared at it. LeeAnne never drank tea when she was pregnant.
“I think I’m pregnant,” I told her, pushing the tea away from me.
Healer Macmillan sighed, “I’ll get a test ready, come down with her in a few minutes Rose.”
“Sure thing Ernie,” she said so playfully, he smiled at her as he walked out the door, shutting it behind him.
“Are you sure Roxanne, I know you and Sean are getting pretty serious, but a baby is a very big project,” Healer Zeller told me, I nodded, wrapping my arms around myself, feeling tears come to my eyes.
“I’m so scared,” I whispered, looking up at her, her face softened as the first few tears slid down my face.
“I felt the same way,” she said, I nodded, I’ve meet the Macmillan children plenty of times before; Carson, Maggie, William, and Amelia. “But you have a big group of people who will stand behind you and help you in any way that you need, me included.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
When I left St. Mungo’s with a bag of potions and a few pamphlets about what was going to happen to me and how to deal with it, along with others talking about both of my conditions and how they went hand-in-hand. All I could think of though was that I was pregnant, that it was Sean’s (someone who loved me more than anything), and how I was going to tell him.
“Sean, I have some great news,” I told him, as I went through my clothes. I was still pretty skinny, I would probably always be as skinny as I am, at least that’s what Healer Zeller told me all those years ago, but now I was healthy. “We’re still on for dinner tonight, right?”
“Yeah, gosh this traffic is horrible,” he said, I heard beeping in the background, then another voice say, “Roxy! We’ll go shopping tomorrow, you, me, the little guys, and LeeAnne!”
I smiled, Mason, Sean’s little brother. Mason was a very interesting guy, he worked for my cousins Molly and Lucy at there bouquet, he also had a great sense of style, just not for him. He was what I heard someone say before, a ‘flamboyant gay’, but I’ve grown to love him and Veronica (Sean’s little sister).
“Tell Mason, its on. I’ll see you later Sean.”
“I love you Anne,” he said, as the beeping suddenly got louder.
“I love you too, Sean.”
Sean and Mason were killed a few minutes later in a car crash.
He never knew about the baby(s).
I always ware the ring that he and Mason went to get that day, on a chain around my neck.
I had to move back in with my parents until the twins were a little over a year old.
Sean Thomas Finnigan, Jr. and Susan Angelina Finnigan.
My beautiful, beautiful children. I never let them forget that, I never let them believe that they were fat, or ugly, or sluts. I never let them forget that I loved them, that their father loved them too.
I never let them forget how much I cared about them.
As their not pretty, they are the most beautiful babies I ever saw.