Draco sat in the Slytherin common room, talking to Pansy about Harry Potter. This was hardly unusual, he ranted to just about everyone he spoke to about the Gryffindor.
“He just thinks he’s so great, doesn’t he,” he scoffed. “I mean, just because his parents died when he was a baby doesn’t mean he’s the most important person in the world!”
Pansy gave an exasperated sigh. “You’ve only told me this about a million times!”
“But he actually said I was annoying today!” Draco exclaimed as Pansy stood up and brushed off her skirt.
“That’s because you are annoying,” Pansy replied tensely. She picked up a scone from the table and shoved it into his mouth. “Here, maybe having some food would keep you from talking, eat your feelings or whatever.”
She walked away and Draco rolled his eyes. Pansy was his friend, and while she could be a bit harsh she cared about him a lot. He took another bite of the scone she’d put in his mouth. He usually stayed away from snacks, but he figured maybe his friend was right. He probably needed a distraction right now. He was sick of thinking about Potter.
It wasn’t long until Draco had eaten the whole plate of scones. He’d always been healthy and fit so he’d never had a particularly large stomach which meant that after eating about ten scones he was pleasantly full.
It was around dinner time though, and soon enough Draco saw all of his friends leaving to go to the Great Hall. He didn’t need more food but he figured he’d go and keep them company anyway.
It was all going fine until Draco saw Harry over at the Gryffindor table, laughing with his friends. He remembered how annoyed he’d been at him earlier and was starting to feel that way again.
“I can’t believe Potter’s just over there, laughing when-“
Pansy cut him off. “Ugh, not again! Can I eat a single meal without hearing about Harry Potter? It ruins my appetite.”
Draco closed his mouth and stared down at the table for a moment. He felt awkward now, just sitting there, not knowing what to say. He felt like he should be doing something so he picked up a roll and bit off a piece, chewing out the words he wanted to say and swallowing down his feelings.
He’d already had enough to eat, but over the next half hour he found himself taking bite after bite of whatever was in reach just to keep himself occupied and distracted.
When everyone stood up at the end of the meal Draco got up alongside them and found himself shocked at how stuffed he felt. His belly almost hurt with the amount he had eaten.
Draco was surprised to discover that all the resentment and annoyance was gone, replaced by the light stretch of his stomach and the overwhelming feeling of being full.
He decided that he liked it.
The next morning at breakfast Draco felt empty again. The first thing he saw when he walked into the Great Hall was Harry and he could feel his blood pressure rising.
He wanted to tell his friends but he remembered what Pansy had said the night before and piled more pieces of French toast onto his plate instead. He didn’t give himself a chance to speak during the meal. If he had the opportunity to put his fork down he’d slide more food onto his plate.
He felt full around the middle of the time they had to eat but whenever Draco thought of stopping he got aggravated so he took a large sip of milk and kept on pushing food into his mouth.
It became a battle. Every time his stomach groaned or he caught a glimpse of Harry he’d bring his fork back up to his mouth and shove in another bite. His stomach really hurt now but he was determined to stop thinking about his rival.
This time when his friends stood up to go to class Draco had to hang back and take several deep breaths before he could stand. He was fuller then he’d even been before and it was amazing.
Through the first class his stomach rumbled and grumbled and hurt. Through the second it was comfortable and heavy and nice. Through the third, though, Draco realized he was hungry again.
That wasn’t a problem because the next period was lunch so he could fill himself up again. He ate his usual sandwich, but found that even when he had stopped being hungry, he still wanted to eat more food.
He made himself another sandwich and then another and when even that wasn’t enough he snacked on some biscuits. To Draco’s embarrassment he found himself burping into his fist near the end and he had to restrain himself from rubbing his aching stomach.
This was a completely new feeling. Draco knew he should feel grossed out but he hadn’t thought about Harry all meal and as he looked down at his robes that definitely had a small bulge where his stomach was he knew he only wanted more.
He was so determined to get more that he skipped his next class by telling the teacher he was going to the hospital wing and instead headed back to his dormitory.
When he got there he pulled off his robes and looked down at his small, straining stomach that was pressing out away from him. He lay on his bunk and rubbed it, groaning in relief.
He let out a huge burp and thought; if only Potter could see me now. He didn’t like that thought at all and he felt his stomach again. It had a little give left.
He snapped his fingers and one of the Hogwarts bourse elves appeared. “Bring me some cake and milk,” he requested. The elf nodded and bowed and with a snap it was gone and back again with a slice of chocolate cake and a large glass of milk.
Draco dug into it like he was starving. Between bites he drank large gulps of milk and, even when he was panting with pain and clutching his aching stomach he still needed more. He could feel every bite that entered his belly, stretching him further and making him even bigger.
He heard himself moan then let out another long burp before stuffing the new room in his stomach with more cake. He couldn’t eat another bite or he thought he might actually burst but that was okay because he had finished the slice anyway. He forced down the last sip of milk and lay down on his back.
The weight of his overfilled stomach shifted and Draco groaned as he ran his fingers over the taut skin. He felt stuffed and sick but he also felt tremendously good. So good, in fact, that he wondered how he didn’t do this sooner.
Of course, he should have realized how easily this could become a habit, but all he thought about as he drifted off into a food coma sleep was when he could eat again and if he could eat more next time.
The next time Draco ate was that night. He had woken up around the same time that classes ended for the day and he joined his friends to go to dinner. He lied to them and said he had been sick, but that he was feeling well enough to eat.
Even though he was still bloated from his massive lunch he piled food onto his plate and ate.
“Wow,” Pansy commented suspiciously. “I guess you really were feeling well enough to eat.” Draco felt embarrassment course through him. He’d been about to stop eating but he thought he could make the embarrassment stop if he just ate a little more. If he ate more then he wouldn’t feel it anymore.
He took a slice of pie and forced himself to chew and swallow bite after bite. His stomach groaned and rumbled as though begging him to stop but he refused to listen. He just had to eat a little bit more and he’d be satisfied. Just a little more…
He walked back to the Slytherin dormitory with his friends and tried to hide the obvious press of his stomach against his robes. He found that if he pulled his cloak around him in a certain way he could make it look flat.
The other Slytherins stayed up to talk but Draco excused himself and went to lie down, nursing his aching belly under the sheets.
It only escalated from there.
Soon Draco was stuffing himself at breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He could no longer hide the way his robes stretched over his stomach or the rounding of his face and the emerging love handles.
He had begun skipping classes, either to sleep off how much he’d eaten for lunch or breakfast or to eat even more. He’d started eating at night too, sneaking snacks into his bunk and shoveling them down after the others had gone to sleep and the nice haze of fullness from dinner had worn off.
His grades were dropping fast but why would he care? All Draco cared about now was making sure he was constantly full. His stomach was constantly bloated and he always stayed until all the food disappeared at meals so he could be sure he ate as much as he could.
One day on the weekend Draco was lounging in the common room, gorging himself on a large tray of small cakes and tarts. He no longer cared what he looked like, he only focused on eating. His stomach pressed full against his robes all the time now, and when he was really stuffed they pushed the buttons apart so far they looked like they might burst.
Right now he was getting full so his robes still mostly fit him. He didn’t even notice Pansy standing in front of him until she spoke. “Are you seriously still hungry? We only ate lunch an hour ago.” Draco shrugged, not taking his eyes off the tray of desserts. “You’re getting really fat, Draco. Stop being such a pig.”
Draco waited until she walked off, then took another bite of the tart he was eating. He rubbed a hand over his massive stomach and studied it. He supposed he was putting on weight, but he really couldn’t bring himself to care. He felt amazing, better then he ever had before. Who was Pansy to judge him?
When he ate dinner that night he didn’t hold back from rubbing his stomach in front of everyone. He had lost his shame.
He owled home and had his parents order him a larger set of robes when he finally outgrew his, then had them get an even larger set not even a month later when he’d outgrown those too.
Eventually his grades had dropped so far that he was called into Professor McGonagall’s office and told if they didn’t start improving he’d be expelled. Draco didn’t care. He couldn’t stop at this point anyway, he was completely obsessed.
It had grown harder to get around the castle too, he got winded easily and his walk had become more of a waddle. He stopped attending classes altogether, only making the trip between the Slytherin common room and the dining hall.
Soon the school had no choice but to expel him. He was sent home to his waiting parents who had nothing to say about their sons new size. The Malfoys had always spoiled their son rotten and they let him stay in his room all day for weeks at a time and allowed him to use their house elf for everything.
That meant, of course, that now that he was home, Draco didn’t even need to move to get food, he merely had to ask and it was brought directly to his room.
Draco was thrilled. Here there was no one to judge him for his burps or laziness or dramatically increasing weight.
On his first day back he asked the elves to make him a feast to celebrate his return and proceeded to eat the four course meal in one sitting, only putting his fork down when his belly was distended and aching. He rubbed the massive expanse of stomach and let out a pained burp before moaning unabashedly. He never wanted to move again. His stomach gurgled and churned and he pressed his fingers into his skin. There was no give at all under the thick layer of fat. He sank back into his pillows to sleep.
Soon enough it grew hard for Draco to get out of bed. He was eating six large meals a day and he never gave himself time to feel hungry. His stomach needed more and more food to be satisfied, but Draco was more than happy to oblige, consuming thousands of calories every meal and when he wasn’t eating he was sleeping and letting what he’d eaten convert to fat.
He struggled to shuffle to the bathroom and he had outgrown his clothes many times. During times when he was completely full he found that he could barely move at all. And yet, this didn’t bother Draco. He happily ate more and more. He knew he was obsessed, he simply didn’t care.