RP: Potions help needed
Date: 11 April 2005
Characters: Marietta Edgecombe, Andromeda Tonks
Location: Towler Clinic
Status: Private
Summary: Marietta does some thinking, makes a decision and takes a new step.
Warnings Some minor ruminations about sex
Completion: Complete
Marietta had done a lot of thinking the past week since her non-date with Vincent Crabbe that had ended with sex. She had learned a few things about herself in the process and started seeing some standards developing in her mind regarding men. For all that she'd just wanted someone to relieve her of her virginity, she now knew that she probably wouldn't have made the sort of offer she'd made to Vincent if she'd not been attracted to him to begin with. So that meant she wasn't willing to throw herself at anyone with dangly bits, which was a relief. She was an Edgecombe, after all; her great-grandfather several times removed had been a baron and Chancellor of the Exchequer. His descendants had mostly married pureblooded witches and wizards. Marietta wasn't the sort to ask a man his blood status, which didn't matter to her particularly. She was interested in breeding, though; she'd never liked men who had bad manners or looked as though they'd fallen off a turnip cart. So the rougher sorts who might frequent the Five Alarm and nearby alleys were out of the question.
She'd also been slightly panicked when Vincent told her about Dolohov's family being among the worst of the Death Eaters. Perhaps the man she'd met really was an honest, sincere, upstanding citizen of Russia, but he could just as easily be someone she didn't want to tangle with in any sense. A brief interlude of pleasure with a handsome, sophisticated man wouldn't be worth the possible complications.
As for Vincent himself, the attraction had been physical, certainly, but there was also a mental attraction now she knew he wasn't (still) the lumbering halfwit he'd seemed at school. She was fascinated by the way he'd remade himself in the span of less than eight years. At their age, of course, that was a relatively long time, but considered where he'd been (in her mind, anyway) in June 1997, she was still shocked that she'd paid him a moment's notice. At school he'd been a bit of a laughing-stock to the Ravenclaws. She wondered how many in Stoatshead Hill, besides herself and Lisa, knew how he'd changed. She didn't doubt why the Sorting Hat had placed him in Slytherin; now he was out of Draco Malfoy's shadow, it was obvious he was crafty, cunning, knew what he wanted and went after it. He had to be fairly intelligent, too, or he couldn't be doing the sort of potions research he'd mentioned. He'd made himself into the man he wanted to be, and didn't seem to care whether or not anyone else liked who he'd become (or rather, as he would probably say, who he'd been all along while hiding inside that fat, dumb-looking shell). She guessed that his ability to please women sexually had been developed in recent years; at school he wasn't the sort girls at Hogwarts would seek out for physical pleasure, not unless they were "dogs" themselves, as the boys used to say. Marietta had never been called a dog (not to her face); she was just a girl nobody noticed, especially when she was with Cho. Since she first met Vincent at the Five Alarm, he'd told her a few times that she was "reasonably attractive"; not exactly high praise, but the man was a bit full of himself. She didn't mind that so much with Vincent because he'd made her first sexual experience rather memorable. No, he was definitely not a bumbler in bed. So it seemed she was willing to overlook arrogance if the man gave her a reasonable amount of pleasure. She wouldn't soon forget (if ever) how his mouth felt on her and how he felt inside her. Most women probably hadn't had one-tenth the pleasure their first time that Marietta had. Still, she was done trading favours for sex. She had felt a bit whorish the next day. It had been an impetuous act, and while she didn't regret the outcome, the circumstance left a tinny taste in her mouth.
Now that Marietta had tasted the joys of sex, she wanted to be prepared. Not that she planned to run out and seduce random wizards, but she wanted to be able to enjoy herself the next time without worrying about possible repercussions. She decided to try to get some contraceptive potion. She suspected it might be hard to find in this little town (despite the abundance of witches of the right age) and she doubted the Weasley twins' apothecary carried it. She would have to visit a healer to get some. Marietta considered going to the hospital, but decided against that; she'd heard that several witches she'd been acquainted with at school worked there as healers or mediwitches, and she could just imagine the gossip that might occur if she asked any of them to help her. She knew this ought to be confidential, but she didn't trust anyone she'd known at school. So she decided, instead, to visit the private clinic that she'd passed a few times on walks near her home. Apparating there on her way to work, she entered the clinic. A small bell rang, announcing her entrance.
Characters: Marietta Edgecombe, Andromeda Tonks
Location: Towler Clinic
Status: Private
Summary: Marietta does some thinking, makes a decision and takes a new step.
Warnings Some minor ruminations about sex
Completion: Complete
Marietta had done a lot of thinking the past week since her non-date with Vincent Crabbe that had ended with sex. She had learned a few things about herself in the process and started seeing some standards developing in her mind regarding men. For all that she'd just wanted someone to relieve her of her virginity, she now knew that she probably wouldn't have made the sort of offer she'd made to Vincent if she'd not been attracted to him to begin with. So that meant she wasn't willing to throw herself at anyone with dangly bits, which was a relief. She was an Edgecombe, after all; her great-grandfather several times removed had been a baron and Chancellor of the Exchequer. His descendants had mostly married pureblooded witches and wizards. Marietta wasn't the sort to ask a man his blood status, which didn't matter to her particularly. She was interested in breeding, though; she'd never liked men who had bad manners or looked as though they'd fallen off a turnip cart. So the rougher sorts who might frequent the Five Alarm and nearby alleys were out of the question.
She'd also been slightly panicked when Vincent told her about Dolohov's family being among the worst of the Death Eaters. Perhaps the man she'd met really was an honest, sincere, upstanding citizen of Russia, but he could just as easily be someone she didn't want to tangle with in any sense. A brief interlude of pleasure with a handsome, sophisticated man wouldn't be worth the possible complications.
As for Vincent himself, the attraction had been physical, certainly, but there was also a mental attraction now she knew he wasn't (still) the lumbering halfwit he'd seemed at school. She was fascinated by the way he'd remade himself in the span of less than eight years. At their age, of course, that was a relatively long time, but considered where he'd been (in her mind, anyway) in June 1997, she was still shocked that she'd paid him a moment's notice. At school he'd been a bit of a laughing-stock to the Ravenclaws. She wondered how many in Stoatshead Hill, besides herself and Lisa, knew how he'd changed. She didn't doubt why the Sorting Hat had placed him in Slytherin; now he was out of Draco Malfoy's shadow, it was obvious he was crafty, cunning, knew what he wanted and went after it. He had to be fairly intelligent, too, or he couldn't be doing the sort of potions research he'd mentioned. He'd made himself into the man he wanted to be, and didn't seem to care whether or not anyone else liked who he'd become (or rather, as he would probably say, who he'd been all along while hiding inside that fat, dumb-looking shell). She guessed that his ability to please women sexually had been developed in recent years; at school he wasn't the sort girls at Hogwarts would seek out for physical pleasure, not unless they were "dogs" themselves, as the boys used to say. Marietta had never been called a dog (not to her face); she was just a girl nobody noticed, especially when she was with Cho. Since she first met Vincent at the Five Alarm, he'd told her a few times that she was "reasonably attractive"; not exactly high praise, but the man was a bit full of himself. She didn't mind that so much with Vincent because he'd made her first sexual experience rather memorable. No, he was definitely not a bumbler in bed. So it seemed she was willing to overlook arrogance if the man gave her a reasonable amount of pleasure. She wouldn't soon forget (if ever) how his mouth felt on her and how he felt inside her. Most women probably hadn't had one-tenth the pleasure their first time that Marietta had. Still, she was done trading favours for sex. She had felt a bit whorish the next day. It had been an impetuous act, and while she didn't regret the outcome, the circumstance left a tinny taste in her mouth.
Now that Marietta had tasted the joys of sex, she wanted to be prepared. Not that she planned to run out and seduce random wizards, but she wanted to be able to enjoy herself the next time without worrying about possible repercussions. She decided to try to get some contraceptive potion. She suspected it might be hard to find in this little town (despite the abundance of witches of the right age) and she doubted the Weasley twins' apothecary carried it. She would have to visit a healer to get some. Marietta considered going to the hospital, but decided against that; she'd heard that several witches she'd been acquainted with at school worked there as healers or mediwitches, and she could just imagine the gossip that might occur if she asked any of them to help her. She knew this ought to be confidential, but she didn't trust anyone she'd known at school. So she decided, instead, to visit the private clinic that she'd passed a few times on walks near her home. Apparating there on her way to work, she entered the clinic. A small bell rang, announcing her entrance.