Disclaimer:Bunch o' wizards belong to J.K. Rowling. Story's mine, la di da di da.

Rating:M for later chapters.
Summary:Why do all heroines have to be either slim or skinny? Enter Rose – a buxom, hefty, and curvy woman with body image issues. And she is crushing on Harry Potter with all her breasts – she would say heart, but her breasts are bigger.

8th year fic.

x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

"You need to cut down on those treacle tarts," Pansy Parkinson yelled across the Slytherin table during lunch, a rather irritating smirk adorning her face.

"Shurrup!" Rose yelled back with her mouth full, and she swallowed the rest of her fourth treacle tart.
"She may be overweight," Blaise – who was sitting opposite Rose – countered, pointing at Pansy, "But you're ugly. She can lose weight."

Anyone who was near enough to hear Blaise's comment laughed, all of them ignoring the way Pansy's face twisted into infuriation. Blaise winked at Rose and she grinned, shaking her head. Rose proceeded to gulp down her pumpkin juice.

True enough, Rose thought, I just can't seem to muster the willpower to continue dieting months after months. Mine only lasts for weeks. Okay, less than two weeks. Alright, alright – hours.

"Maybe you really should lose weight," a voice came from Rose's right, which nearly caused her heart to jump out of her rather ample body. Rose turned to meet Pansy 'Pug-Face' Parkinson. "I mean, look at those arms," Pansy then proceeded to jab at Rose's arms which were hanging loosely by her sides, "Muscles, eh?"

How 'bout I show you how strong my muscles are by breaking your jaw?

Rose shrugged her poking finger off violently as Pansy and her two shadows (girls with no type of personality whatsoever) broke into high-pitched giggles. Rose gathered herself and pretended to brush imaginary lint off her shoulders and arms (where Pansy's fingers had been).

"You just had lunch, didn't you?" Rose began, turning to look at Pansy innocently, "What was it? A pea? Off you go now, isn't it time for you to throw it all up in the toilet?" Rose fluttered her eyelashes exaggeratedly for dramatic effect – which made Blaise choke on his juice and start coughing and chuckling simultaneously. The three offending girls immediately stopped laughing, and Pansy raised an eyebrow, clearly looking miffed.

"Fatso," Pansy leaned in and spat, before turning on her heels and walking towards the Great Hall entrance, her two moving-decorations in tow.

Rose exultant smile faltered, and her face fell into that of hurt and dejectedness.

Stupid Pansy. I can't help that I love food too much!

"It's okay, Rose," Blaise assured, squeezing her hand, "You are beautiful, don't let anybody tell you otherwise."
Rose made a noncommittal sound and sighed heavily.

"You keep telling me that," Rose said.
"Because it is true. You have monster curves, Rose. And what does Pansy have? Nothing. She doesn't even have a brain, yes?"
Rose let out a bark of laughter at that.

"Curves are beautiful. Just because magazines and the – what's it called – vellytision?"
"Television," Rose corrected.
"Yes, that, portray slim, lean bodies doesn't mean you aren't as desirable, you know. Some men love curves."
"And I haven't met one that does yet," Rose countered, "Besides you, of course."

Blaise was silent for a moment.

"Yet," he finally said, "Keyword being 'yet'. So don't torture yourself, despite Pansy's emotional abuse."
Rose made a humming sound of agreement.

"So, no starving yourself?" Blaise asked, looking at her suspiciously.
"No," Rose answered, "Definitely not."
"Good, because that is unhealthy. And no skipping meals?"
"No."

If Blaise was asking another question regarding her meals then (or lack thereof when she is in those I-need-to-be-skinny moods), Rose was no longer paying attention. Because at that moment, the person who filled her waking moments and nightly (probably dirty) dreams decided to walk into the Great Hall.

Harry Potter sauntered in, the same way that he always does for as long as Rose could remember (or rather, for as long as Rose had harboured this huge crush on him).

And dirty thoughts about him, her traitorous mind supplied helpfully.
Shut up!, she told her mind, while she regained her focus on watching Harry Potter's arse – ahem, watching Harry Potter walk towards his seat next to Ron Weasley and opposite Hermione Granger.

He had an assured air of a man, full of confidence. He was no longer the scrawny, underfed boy Rose had always thought when she had first laid eyes on him.

"That's Harry Potter?" Rose had asked during the Sorting Ceremony in first year, "He looks so, so …"
"Annoying," young Blaise had finished quietly.
"- Malnourished," Rose had said. She had looked twice Harry Potter's size, then.

Well, she would still look twice Harry Potter's size now too, had he not grown into ooooh, a man. He had filled out nicely; his face was no longer sharp and pointed but smooth and chiselled, and his shoulders were no longer breakable by the mere touch of Rose's little finger – they were now broad and strong, due to years of Quidditch. True, he was no longer The Boy-Who-Lived or The Boy-Who-Would-Never-Die-No-Matter-What, he was now The Man-Who-Killed-Voldemort, The Saviour of the Wizarding World.

Had he been food, Rose would have definitely eaten him up long ago.

I would like one Harry Potter, smothered in chocolate and rainbow sprinkles, please!

Rose unconsciously licked her lips at that.
"Oh, yes," she whispered.

"Yes? Are you mad?" Blaise hissed at her, "You would take those Witches' Diet Pills? No, Rose, just no!"
"Huh, wha -?" Rose blinked, and looked away from Harry Potter. He was blocked by Blaise's irritated face anyway, "What were you saying?"
"You – did you hear – Rose?" Blaise asked, raising his eyebrow at Rose's attempts to look over his shoulder multiple times, completely ignoring him.

"Sorry, Blaise," she finally turned to Blaise. Blaise was too tall. Yeesh. Busy blocking her view from a scrumptious green-eyed Harry Potter.
Blaise turned around and slowly turned back to Rose, shaking his head.

"Mmph. Potter," Blaise said.
"Oh, yes. Potter," Rose purred, grinning madly – ignoring Blaise's bewildered look.

He knew of Rose's unhealthy crush on Harry Potter, of course – it was as unhealthy as her eating habits. Heck, that was an understatement. Her eating habits were far healthier than her crush on Harry Potter.

"Are you ever going to tell him that you are mad for him?" Blaise regarded her with a bored mien.
"Of course not, are you mad?" Rose laughed, shaking her head.
"No, apparently you are, and for him."
"Yes, but that doesn't mean I will tell him."
"Why not?"
"Because I'm fat," Rose said nonchalantly.

It was always easier and funnier to call yourself fat, but it doesn't have the same effect if somebody else did it, and Rose was totally aware of that.

"You are not fat, for fuck's sake. You're voluptuous."
"A fancy word for fat, same difference."
"Embrace it, Rose. You are what you are."

Rose almost grimaced at that. She never did completely like the way she was, and she had given up a long time ago trying to lose the excess baggage. She tried embracing her curves as well, and she had started off fine, but the awareness of other people around her being either slim or skinny or having an amazing fit body – and had no trouble buying clothes off the shelves – swallowed her pride of having curves.

She just tried not to give it much thought – that is until Pansy Pugfaceson comes along and shouts it in her face.

It didn't help that her ex-boyfriend had suggested that she go to the gym (he was a half-blood) to tighten up a bit, and was subsequently caught snogging the living daylights out of a pretty, slender girl last year.

"For all we know, Potter might like curvy girls," Blaise waggled his eyebrows at her.
Rose laughed.

"Impossible! Look at the girls he's dated, Chang and Weasley, both of them had fantastic athletic slender bodies," Rose sipped her juice, "Doesn't exactly scream curves, you know?"

Blaise gave her a pointed look. Rose ignored him, as she watched Harry Potter stuff a treacle tart into his mouth before leaving the Great Hall hurriedly with his friends, saying something about Quidditch practice. She watched him with goo goo eyes.

Yes, she was crushing on him – big time. She was crushing on Harry Potter with all her breasts – she would have said heart, but her breasts are bigger.

"Whatever it is, no diets, yes?" Blaise instructed her firmly.
"Yes, no diets, sir."

x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x. x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

She was on a diet the very next day.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hung-geeeeeeeer-reeeeeeee.

She had skipped breakfast and lunch earlier that day, and she was now half naked – with only her bra and knickers on, standing in front of her full-length mirror in her dorm.

She looked at her reflection in dismay and began to examine herself. Her fingers skimmed her sides, feeling every bump of her tummy, hips and everywhere else that Rose calls road-bumps.

"Oh, Merlin," Rose sighed, gathering a handful of tummy fat and squeezing, "I need to get rid of this. This diet needs to continue!"

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry, her mind seemed to remind her every second.

"Yes, I know you're hungry, but no. You need to lose all this!" Rose told her reflection.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry, her inner mind's voice was beginning to sound like a zombie.

It was already time for dinner, and she promised Blaise that she would join him for dinner before making their way into the library to finish off their homework. She made a mental note to only have – don't know – soup, perhaps?

Yes, yes, only soup. And garlic bread, perhaps. Yes, yes. Brilliant.

Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.

"Yes, I know!" Rose snarled at the mirror and gave her tummy a small slap.

She strode into the Great Hall, keeping an eye out for Blaise. He waved at her and she plonked herself down opposite him.

Blaise gave her an once-over and immediately started glaring at her.

"What?" Rose asked, her eyes widening.
Blaise glared at her for a few more seconds before answering, crossing his arms, "You're on a diet, aren't you?"
"No, I'm not!" Rose said, her voice suddenly becoming high-pitched.
"Yes, you are. Did you take a look at yourself in the mirror?"
"Why, yes, I did. Before I came down here, I inspected the areas that needed -"
"No, no, no," Blaise growled, looking extremely crossed, "Did you see how your face looked in the mirror?"

She was about to answer "gorgeous as always without even looking into the mirror, if I do say so myself, why do you ask?", but she only shook her head.
"Do you know how I always seem to know whenever you're on a diet?" Blaise asked, sighing heavily.

Again, Rose shook her head.

"It's because you'd be insipid-looking."

Rose unconsciously touched her face.
"I do?"
"Yes, very insipid. No rosy cheeks, no bright and lively eyes."
"Oh."

Hmmm. That poses a problem. Note to self: Whenever on diet, use a lot of makeup to avoid looking like Death.

"Now, eat," Blaise stuffed her plate with her favourite food and planted it right in front of her. She literally salivated and had to take a deep breath to suck in the drool and swallow.

"B-but -" Rose began, but Blaise gave her a warning look.
Rose sighed, defeated, and picked up her fork and stuffed a small piece of chicken into her mouth.

Oh. Sweet. Jesus.

Had she not been in public she would have taken the whole plate and gulped it all down – all of it, the plate included.

And then she would spit the plate out, all bright and sparkling clean – just like how Garfield does it.

"Good?" Blaise grinned.
"So good," she said, stuffing more chicken into her mouth.

Blaise shook his head and began eating from his own plate.

Just as she was about to grab more (diet plan of only having soup and garlic bread failed, obviously), Harry Potter's arse – ahem, Harry Potter walked into the Great Hall, late as usual.

Rose's eyes flitted all over him, until his back was towards her, and her eyes feasted on his behind.

I can't help it, I mean, it's only natural if you're facing someone's back, she reasoned with herself.

Harry Potter has a nice arse.
It looked tight, and firm in those sinful jeans that hugged it so exquisitely.
Harry Potter's arse was extremely 'grab-able'.

Very nice, a very sexy shape – as opposed to my cottage cheese arse, Rose thought.

"Staring at Potter's arse again?" Blaise asked.
"Yes, did you know that his arse -"
"I don't," Blaise cut her off, "Want to know about another guy's arse."
"But it's so -" Rose waved her hands and gestured around, trying to perfectly define the shape of Harry Potter's arse.
"Nope," Blaise said firmly, effectively stopping her in the middle of her Harry-Potter-arse-worshiping.

They finished their dinner and walked to the library.

"I still don't know why you won't just tell the git that you fancy him," Blaise said, as they dropped their books and bags onto a table near the end of the library.
"We've been through this so many times," Rose sighed, as they both walked to one of the shelves to get a certain book on Charms that Flitwick said would help them with their essays.

"But you never know unless you try," Blaise said, getting into his Mr-I'm-So-Full-Of-Advices role.
"Nah, I know already," Rose said, tracing the lines of books that she passed by, mindful of that certain book's name should she come across it.
"Oh yeah?" Blaise stopped, and Rose also stopped, facing Blaise. He grabbed a book from one of the taller shelves and handed it to Rose.
"Yes," Rose answered, and she scanned the title of the book. It was the book they were looking for, "Yes, I know already. Nobody here likes curves, Blaise. They want a girl who's slender and tall and slim, and – and – and -" Rose waved her hand around, "And someone who can just pick random clothes and it would definitely fit them without having to try them on, you know? Someone who can eat and eat but never gain weight. Someone who's really easy to lift, someone who doesn't have rolls and spare tyres around the tummy or anywhere else for that matter."

"That's not true," a voice from behind Rose spoke.

Rose turned around and her eyes met emerald ones.

Her heart skipped a beat.

"Potter," she blurted before she could stop herself.
He grinned at her guiltily.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, I just overheard you two talking while I was coming here to get the book Flitwick recommended us," Harry Potter said.
Blaise grabbed another copy from the shelf and threw it at Harry Potter.

"Thanks," he said, catching the book easily with Seeker reflexes.
"Potter, eavesdropping?" Blaise smirked, "So tell me, Potter, what are your thoughts on the matter?"

At that, Blaise gave her a slow look, before returning his attention to Harry Potter.

Rose swallowed and she heard it loudly in her own ears.

"Well, you know, I have always had an issue with the whole weight thing among people in general nowadays," Harry Potter started.
"Oh?" Blaise said.
"Yeah, because I happen to love how big women look."

Rose's eyes widened and Blaise resisted the urge to go 'HA!' in Rose's ears.

"I mean, it's all perspective. It's based on opinion, I suppose, and when it comes to my opinion," he paused, and looked at Rose for a brief moment, "I think the sort of voluptuous, voluminous bodies are a lot sexier than a sack of bones with fake stuff."
"I see, Potter," Blaise said, and nudged Rose lightly, "That's a breath of fresh air, isn't it, Rose?"

Huh?

"Say something," Blaise said whispered through gritted teeth. She looked from Blaise to Harry Potter, and Harry Potter looked expectantly at her – waiting for her to say something.

Umm …

"I like treacle tarts," Rose blurted.

What on earth? Her mind shouted at her.

Harry Potter blinked at her, before his lips started to form a slow, lopsided grin. She began to blush.

"Me too," he said.

Her mind was still panicking, and reprimanding her for her previous brainfart.

Apparently everything that goes into my mouth seems to make me fat, and everything that comes out of my mouth embarrasses me.

"They're …" she trailed off, "good stuff."

"They are," Harry Potter nodded and smiled.

Well, at least you know he likes treacle tarts too.

"Well, let's get on to our homework, shall we?" Blaise suggested, and they all nodded and made sounds of agreements before walking away.

As soon as they were far from Harry Potter, and as soon as Rose's heartbeat calmed down, Blaise started laughing.

"What's wrong with you?" Rose asked him, recollecting the closeness of Harry Potter a few minutes ago.
"What the hell was all that about? 'I like treacle tarts', really?" Blaise laughed and clapped his hands.
"Ah, I don't even know, don't ask," Rose shook her head, trying to forget that ever happened.

They sat down and began with their homework.

When she and Blaise had finished with their essays, they walked to the library exit where Harry Potter and his friends were seated nearby.

Rose looked at him, and surprisingly, he was already looking at her.

She gave him a broad smile.
And he smiled back.

"Goodnight," Harry Potter wished her before she disappeared through the door.
Rose's was taken aback a little before she warmly wished him goodnight in return.

"Well, there you go. You heard him," Blaise said cheerfully as they reached the dungeons, "He likes curvy women. You have no excuses now."

:3

*shares chocolates with readers*