(1939-02-08) Badly Trained Dogs
Details for Badly Trained Dogs
Summary: Whilst waiting for Medusa in Madam Puddifoot's Teashop, Lucretia gets tracked down by Ignatius. Medusa arrives and questions get asked, if not exactly answered.
Date: 1939-02-08
Location: Madam Puddifoot's Teashop, Hogsmeade.
Related: Doubled Troubles

Madame Puddifoots is more or less known as snog heaven by couples wishing to have a place to hold hands and smooch more than eat and drink. In fact, the promise of snogging is the only thing that could induce any self-respecting man to enter a place that looks as if someone's wand threw up lace and chintz in various shades of pink over the entire place. The seats are puffs of lace and chintz, the table clothes are confections of lace and chintz, the curtains… *Everything* is lace and chintz. Gossipy portraits on the walls reside comfortably in ornate, golden frames, to match the curtain rods and tassels that tie back the curtains. The tea is served in little porcelain pots with tea cups painted with sprays of roses and baby's breath and gilded rims to the cups and saucers. And Madame Puddifoots crowning touch? Animated golden cherubs that flit back and forth, sprinkling the trysting couples with golden confetti.

Mid-morning sees Lucretia in the small tea shop, the young witch sitting with a plate of tiny biscuits and a warm pot of tea in front of her on the table. A cup poured out, she's removed her gloves and laid them beside her plate and is currently staring at the window. She might be expecting someone if the matching cup and saucer laid on the opposite side of the table is anything to go by, or perhaps the waitress just made a mistake.

From their last encounter Lucretia was scarcely seen by the Prewett boy. Distance was perhaps a good thing given the manner of their antics. A week or so later it was perhaps time to mend the bridge and or just see how tepid the waters still were. Catching word that his betrothed had entered the tea shop Iggy's course diverted in that direction. Once inside the boy removed both of his gloves and the grey newsboy cap used to protect his russet crown from the light snowfall. "Hey Lula." He greets cheerfully as though the last weekend had never happened.

Lucretia looks blankly at Ignatius. Its odd, its as if she doesn't properly see him, looking through rather than at the tall boy that's walked in. "Ignatius." Dressed in black from head to toe and with her hair brushed into a sleek cap of glossy waves that reaches to the small of her back, she looks the model of the perfect young witch. Shame she doesn't feel it when Ignatius is around. "I expect you've come to bring me a replacement sweater for the one you ruined. Thank you. I told my friends that you'd come good, being my bethrothed and everything, I'm so happy you've not let me down."

Iggy's dark brown eyebrows creased, "That I've not let you down?" He snorted while shoving the pair of gloves into a side pocket of his coat. "And I'm not buying you a new sweater Lucretia. You can get another one just over there." She had the funds and his own money was for something special. For himself. Still standing the boy folds both arms across his chest, "Besides you were all but snogging the Weasley bloke. So why don't you bat your eyelashes at him to get you a new one?"

Lucretia's shoulders stiffen, taking her time in answering him in order to take a sip of her tea. "You seem absolutely intent on alienating me, Ignatius." A scowl furrows her brow as her cup gets set back on its saucer, every movement now one of supreme economy. She's seated at a table with a pot of tea and two cups set out, presumably because she's waiting for someone to join her, and from the tone of her voice that person isn't Iggy- the tall Prewett boy standing near where she sits, looking down at her. "And again, I say, it was you who ruined the sweater, therefore your duty to replace it. As for Weasley, he was being a friend to me. I don't suppose you understand that concept, except in the case of your own, the ones you ran off to join after embarrassing me in possibly the most humiliating of ways."

The door opens and in walks Medusa Malfoy. She is unmistakable with that platinum hair and the Gorgon stare. Tugging her leather gloves off her fingers she then pockets them - the gloves that is, not the fingers as that would be odd - and looks around the Pink Palace of Chintz that is Madam Puddifoot's. Judging by her appearance she is making the most of being out of school and has her warpaint on. Couples freeze and some even part as the Slytherin Queen pases on her way towards Lucretia's table. Ignatius, being in her way she bumps him slightly, "Prewett, there is only so much space in here you know. Don't hover like that it is ridiculous in anyone who isn't a waiter." And with that she lowers herself onto the chair beside Lucretia. "Apologies for being late, Douglas wanted me to see something before I could leave him at the broom shop."

A chuckling sound comes from the freckle-faced boy. "Actually…" He's a bit more relaxed verses his black garbed and seated counterpart. "It was those that ruined your sweater." Iggy's chin nodded at her, accusing her own breasts as the culprit. "Besides it was a joke. No reason to get all uppity about it Lucretia." The boy turned his head at the shoulder bumb and immediately groaned. "Who let you out of your hole Malfoy? Shouldn't you slither back into hiding like a good little viper?"

If looks could kill, Iggy would probably have been dead by now; or possibly even a week ago when he'd first engorgio'ed Lu's boobs and that he's not, isn't for lack of her wishing it. Lucretia turns her attention to Medusa when she sits, her face darkened by the scowl that seems set in for the day. Or at least as long as Ignatius is present. "Hello Medusa. I ordered tea. Would you like a biscuit?" She nudges the plate towards the older girl, her actions stuttering slightly when Ignatius addresses Medusa as she does. She lowers her voice and says something quietly to the older girl, twin spots of colour just staining her cheeks.

Lifting up the teapot Medusa pours herself a cup as she laughs at Iggy. "Cute. Did you think that one up all by yourself or did you have to get someone to write it down so you could practice it each time you encountered a Slytherin?" Setting down the pot she smiles at Lucretia, "Thank you. Tea is just what I need on a cold winter's day. The snow is coming down quite heavily now. A biscuit would be lovely." Accepting one from the plate she looks up at the boy, merely nodding to whatever it is Lucretia whispers to her. "So, let me look at you properly. I cannot think of the last time I cared to bother even glancing at you for more than a few seconds. And yet now I find myself curious what sort of wizard you are. If you are deserving of Lucretia. If you even wish her hand in marriage. Tell me - you're not a homosexual are you? That," she pauses to bite into the biscuit and chew for a moment, "could throw an angry monkey into the matrimonial bed."

Lulu's wishful dead looks warrant a curious stare from Iggy. Then their hushed whispers. Girls were strange. "Not at all Malfoy, you're a special breed ugh." As for their soon marriage, arranged through the families the freckle-faced Prewett boy visibly rolled his eyes and maintained his defensive stance of folded arms over the chest. His short russet hair combed and styled properly as one would expect. "And I cannot think of a time when your thoughts on the subject of our betrothal mattered." Not rising to the bait of the homosexual taunt Iggy looked to Lucretia then. "Enjoy your tea Lucretia. I'll be around if you're up for a chat or something." Given that it was the Hogsmead weekend the boys go out to play and the girls shop. Iggy had better plans than to be scrutinized from the proclaimed 'Slytherin Queen'.

With Medusa's question, Lu's head swivels to look at Ignatius, eyes unblinking. Cup held delicately in her fingers, she doesn't seem to notice the heat of the china, nor the steam that rises from it. "I'll be 'up for a chat' when you've found your manners and apologised for what you did, Ignatius. Other than that, I've no real interest in speaking with you." That she's making an effort to remain calm and modulated, probably does the girl credit as at thirteen its difficult not to let passions rule your head though. She's learning - or attempting to.

"I take back all the kind things I said about Prewett, Lucretia. He is an arse." Medusa takes a sip of her tea, not caring in the least if he hears her or not as he departs. She sets her cup down again. "Do you know, I think perhaps I should write to your mother as a friend of the family. Inform her of his ill-manners and ridiculous lack of consideration for his betters. I might throw in the question of his sexual preferences too."

Iggy slipped the newsboy cap back atop of his head then removed the pair of grey winter gloves from his coat pocket. "Do as you wish Malfoy." Threats merely fulled his apathy over the matter. Leaving the girls to their tea, gossip and biscuits the Prewett boy departed from the establishment to enjoy the remainder of his hogsmead weekend.

"I want to apologise for him, but I somehow can't," Lucretia says, helping herself to a biscuit. "It'd be like apologising for a badly trained dog; there's little point, because you just know that they're going to do exactly the same thing over and over and over again until you simply stop taking them out in public." She watches Ignatius leave, exhaling her breath before taking another sip of her tea. "I actually don't know what to do with him…"

Medusa's suggestion is simple. "Tell your parents the truth. You aren't like me, Lucretia, your parents dote on you. They want to hear your thoughts an opinions because they think they are valid. Be honest with them. Tell them how he is embarassing you and that you seriously question his ability to be an acceptable husband." Another bite of her biscuit and she adds, "Frankly, he is an embarrassment in public and as a Black you are of the upper echelons of society. You are expected to move about in public."

"Thank you, Medusa. Yes, I think that I'll do that. I would have hoped that he'd have realised what an excellent marriage he's been granted with me, perhaps he will yet." With that, Lucretia grants him the benefit of the doubt, though the doubt in her own voice certainly shows with each word spoken. "It won't hurt to write to mother though, she likes to hear how I'm getting on and she's always asking whether Iggy's treating me like he should be." That Lu herself thinks he's not isn't in doubt and she reaches for another biscuit, dunking it into her tea before transferring it to her mouth.

A short while later…

This may be one of the owls Lucretia recognizes by sight as belonging to the Prewetts. The winged creature swoops into the establishment with a bagged parcel clutched in it's talons. It drops the paper bag onto the table before continuing it's flight through one of the exits of the teashop. Inside, while not an exact replica of the black sweater damaged, it is one of fine crafstmanship that is suitalble for her size. There's no name with the gift. Just the article of clothing folded neatly in the bag.

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