Day Off [open]

[Samantha Snape]

Sam merely gave as mall, blank smile in good-bye to Angelina. The lose fists had hands had formed on the table top clenched just a bit tighter. Once Angelina was gone, the redhead turned her attention back to Draco. She listened to how words, and wondered just how best to play this off. Her well-manicured, decently lengthy (not claw-like, but just slightly longer than the quick) sliver-and0green alternatively painted nails tapped against the table-top musingly, after she had forced the fists to uncurl.

Her black eyes lifted to focus on Draco, after they had dropped to her hands for a moment. "I really don't see what my father has to do with this," she spoke simply, her voice betraying no emotion. 'It's not as if he would care or understand anyways,' the redhead thought bitterly. She then spoke again. "And yes, I'm sure I don't want anything."

As of now, she just hoped she wouldn't do something stupid - like spout some pro-ana quote at the worst moment...

[draco]

Draco sighed. Severus Snape wasn't always the most caring person, though Draco was sure he loved Sam, even if he didn't show it. Severus was a good man, at heart, and the heart's outer wall hardened over time of death and heartache, though if one were to break the crusty layer on the outside then one could see the caring person he was. Draco only saw this kind of person once, when he had been going to see Snape one day, during the seventh year of his Hogwarts training. Draco managed to get the password right to the headmaster's office, but the door was cracked open. There Snaoe was alone, and... the fluffy teddy bear he really was. Draco didn't interupt whatever was going on there, and Draco ran, never telling anyone since.

"He's probably the only who can force you to do anything," Draco replied seriously, knowing Severus really did care, "Your father may not seem to care, but I'm sure if I bug him enough, he'll comply." Draco didn't get why she barely ate anything. Personally Draco would rather be slightly overweight than starving. Plus Draco was one hot dude without trying, but that probably was just him, especially since his little fan group dissipated in the seventh year, just like some of his Slytherin friends.

"Girls are so complicated," Draco muttered to himself. He wasn't sure if she heard, and didn't really care. He just didn't get woman, girls, people of the female gender. Why did they worry about all this makeup and their appearance so much? Though Draco didn't really complain about that, because he liked some eye candy, and hot girls a lot. But at the same time he didn't get why they worried about their weight when it was just fine the way it was, or the way they thought. It was just so weird to him.

[Samantha Snape]

Sam glared slightly. "No-one," she hissed, "can force me to do anything. Not even my father." When Draco mentioned that her father did care, though he didn't often show it, the skinny redhead smiled. The gesture was completely devoid of humor, and she looked something a kin to a grinning skull - a complete mockery of what a normal person would look like with the same expression.

"I don't see what it matters to you if he cares or not. And really, if he cared he would have noticed by now!" And there she went, doing something stupid. But, as her ire had been stoked, and her pride wouldn't let it go that Draco seemed to think he could force her to do something - or that her father could - the Slytherin girl had tossed caution to the winds in her need to get even.

"Besides, this has nothing to do with my apperance." Her hands curled into fists once more on the table, ever tightening as she spoke. Soon, her palms would be bleeding from where her nails had dug into her palms. Also as her fists tightened, her bones stuck out more, and her knuckles whitened. Returning to the original topic, she finally hissed her thoughts on the subject.

"If he really cared, he would have noticed my need to make him proud; if he really cared, he would have noticed my anorexia by now."

And there it was, in her repeated words: the truth of the matter.

[draco]

"He's obviously already had an effect on you," Draco shrugged taking a drink of his firewhiskey. Well if it weren't for Severus, she wouldn't feel this need to have his approval, but Draco knew Snape wouldn't be the same without her. He actually felt sorry for her, having to live with Severus not expressing his love, or any kind of feeling towards her, except maybe disappointment.

"You are my god sister," Draco replied, not smiling at all anymore, "I do therefore care about you. Your father has noticed, I think. I can't really speak of anything that I know personally, but pretty much anyone has noticed Sam."

"You think that starving yourself would make him proud? What father would want a daughter almost killing herself by not eating what is needed? Have you thought that maybe he thought that you needed to change things yourself, find your own path? That he never thought that you needed to be told that he loved you? And maybe have you thought that he never has been able to express his feelings around others?" Draco countered fiercely not letting her interrupt.

Draco knew his god-father well, probably not as well as Sam might have known him, but Draco knew Severus, at least a little to come up with things like this. Draco never felt the love from Severus either, nor did he care, but that wasn't the point. He was sure Snape could love, but he had an extremely hard time expressing it.

[Samantha Snape]

"Food is nothing more than a distraction for me," she manged to get out through gritted teeth. "If it means nothing, I get my work done quicker by cutting out mealtimes, or I work harder on Quidditch, and perform better during the matches." And then, though her anger still burned white hot, she allowed her mask to fall away. For one brief moment, she allowed her real feelings to show through.

She listened just long enough for Draco to finish speaking. She got what he was saying, but that didn't change her thoughts on the matter. "I understand that expressing his emotions is hard for my father. Yes, I get that maybe he never felt that he needed to tell me that he loved me. But do you know what? All I've ever heard from him is do better, get better marks, you waste time you could spend studying lollygagging at meal times. On and on, I need to be better, I need to be smarter, I can't do things with my friends if I have less than an O in my classes, I'll end up looking like my mother - the woman had quite the full, curvacious figure - if I keep eating like a horse. I'm effing sick of it- sick of never being good enough for him!

"Food is the root of most of that. If I can make myself just effing stop, I'll use the the drive and the time to get better marks, to practice until I drop to help win matches and further Slytherin's reputation... If I can make something of myself - maybe he'll finally be proud of me. I don't care if it kills me." Only one tear slipped from her right eye, though her iron-clad grip on her emotions held back any others. She hated seeming weak, especially to Draco, but she needed to have someone know. She respected no-one, save her father, above Draco, and hated disappointing him almost as much as she hated disappointing her father.

"Even if this kills me, I will be happy if he is proud of me for even one thing."

She knew she sounded desperate and crazy, but that was, essentially, the truth of the matter.

[draco]

Draco never meant to hurt her feelings. He truly didn't. He just wanted to shove some sense down her throat since Severus wouldn't, or maybe he couldn't bring himself to do it. Draco hated when people were upset and tried to mend it, but he thought that when something is like this, he needed to keep focused, though still not try and hurt her feelings even more. Maybe perhaps be a bit more cautious. Sam always seemed to not care or shove it to the side, but Draco thought that maybe he kept it into her.

"Food helps you move faster, gets your brain working bette, it's proven. Why don't you study and eat at the same time? It might not get as much done, but at least one could retain it longer," Draco insisted, keeping a straight face. He knew during that last year, since that was when he decided to become an Auror, he had to do that, or he would've failed. Though it wasn't the same.

"Like any father he wants you to succeed. He doesn't want you to end up becoming something you can be better than. He doesn't want you to die trying. He cares about you, and your future. He wants you to push yourself beyond what you think you are capable of, but he sure as hell doesn't want you to die for it," Draco insisted, some of this applying to him, because he considered a friend, and almost like family, since Severus seemed more of a father than Lucius seemed to be. Though Draco didn't want to think ill of his late father.

"If it makes you feel any better, I am proud of everything you accomplish, in Quidditch, in school, and socially. Even though I think you are a bit crazy, you are Sam Snape, and no one will ever change that, as long as you don't," Draco finally stated. While he wasn't her father, or not even close to a father figure, he hoped it meant something. It meant something to him at least.

[Samantha Snape]

Quickly marshaling her emotions, Sam took a breath and stood from the table. Her black eyes were hard, and her face expressionless as she listened to what Draco had to say. She considered it, but shook her head. No. Wouldn't happen She wouldn't - couldn't - absolutely refused - go back now. She'd come too far to turn back and undo all the progress she'd made. Her grades were climbing, she was quicker on her broom, and she was skinnier than ever. Little did she know, of course, that that would all change very drastically, and very soon.

"I understand your meaning, and I thank you for caring, Draco, but it's my life. I will run - or ruin, as so many people seem to think I'm doing - it as I see fit. Please, don't try to control something that isn't yours to do so with." And with those as her parting words, the skinny fifth year moved away from the table, and left the Three Broomsticks, her blood-red hair streaming out behind her as she fled. Of course, she didn't make it very far once she was out the door. A she had been moving a good deal faster than she normally would have - she wouldn't call it running from her problems, but that was exactly what she was doing - and so she had become quite light-headed quickly.

Trying to keep up her pace, it all went downhill in the blink of an eye. She tried to break into an all out run, but a pain near her lungs stopped her. She staggered, stumbled, and fell, gasping for breath. Damnit, she berated herself mentally. I was so close to getting out of here without Draco knowing how hard this really is... When she attempted to stand, her world spun, and her consciousness slipped from her grasp. Though she couldn't help thinking of how humiliating this was, she allowed the blackness to take her away for a short while.

And so, she lay there, unconscious, as her illness - which some would argue was a mental disorder - finally caught up to her.