#( 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐀 𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐄 ) ━━━ * convos !

[judvs]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  cadbury renaissance faire  ! 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  @rebuildeds / tempest clearwater​  !

she only gets a couple hours to herself before the burning, as it turns out. she'd never thought about the spectacle of it, the fact there'd be an overworked prophet photographer wanting to snap a picture for the middle of the paper, that there'd be a special costume fitting squeezed in between the mock trial and the stake, that there'd be people fully invested in the story of it all who wanted to talk to her about the honour. she'd never figured she had to. burning witch was something she'd been planning on watching from the sidelines, hopefully inebriated, turned on its head. she wasn't hiding, per se - miserably resigned to the fact that she'd have to actually disappear to escape the show and her commitment to her 9-5 was going to make that difficult - but she was trying to keep a low profile, skulking about in the shadows of the tents and stalls and only emerging when she sees someone worth the trouble. she's well aware of just how sketchy she looks trying to wave tempest over to the corner she's placed herself in, but she's well past the point of caring. "hey- c'mere, temp-" she raises her voice only as loud as she has to, dropping it again once they veer close enough to hear her over the din, "something terrible has happened."

[judvs]

" no. " for once, marietta actually doesn't mean to snap. he'll have to forgive her ; st mungo's is about the last place that she'd ever willingly be, and the anxious energy that floods her veins, here, is all the more heightened after the events of the night just passed. her hands were fine. she'd told her mum that, but isolde had insisted they get them seen by a medical professional ( her plaintive ' i was one of them, once, ' had fallen on deaf ears ) and had deposited her in the cafeteria like some sort of child to wait after they'd been heavily ointed and bandaged up. she was miserable, plain & simple, itching at the tape they've used to hold the gauze down and taking it out on anyone who happened to get in her way which, of course, had to be theodore nott. she feels like she wars with herself for a very long time, but it's only been a moment before she tacks on, half heartedly, " i'm sorry, " if it sounds like it should include a i guess, it's probably cause it should, " i think i need something a lot stronger than what they're offering, here. "

𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍.         theodore,      ﹠      st.   mungo's,   the   morning   after   the   attack.

chaos   undoes   him,      tugs      +      toys   with   a   composure   so   rigidly   clung   to         …         always   has   left   him   a   little   unmoored,      adrift,      aimless   in   the   way   he      gazes      around   bustling   cafeteria.   theo   steadfastly   ignores   the   cheap   tea   that   rapidly   cools   at   bandaged   wrist,      +      even   banged   up,   battered   around   the   edges,   he   refuses   to   let   go   of   refined   taste.         “         do   you   want   that      ?         ”         nose   wrinkles,   like   bergamot   wafts   turn   his   stomach.         “         it’s   not   my      usual      brew.         ”

[judvs]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  malfoy manor, wiltshire  ! 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  @ddudleys  !

"have you been to one of these things before?" now that's the kind of question that could get her into trouble, but marietta isn't poking at the wound of not belonging as much as she is sating her own genuine curiosity. she honestly can't remember, and it's not for lack of trying - try as she might, she just can't recall an instance of seeing his now familiar face among the sea of pureblood vipers. she'd like to think that if they'd run across each other before then she'd have said something, gravitated towards him, set the foundation for the friendship they've been building this last year, but she's not an idiot either. doing that would've been letting herself enjoy it, and it's been a while since marietta's let herself do THAT. "general rules of thumb, if you haven't : take it easy on the themed cocktails, cause they're stronger than you're expecting, and avoid anything that looks too good, cause it's usually something that only rich people enjoy - like escargot."

[judvs]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  malfoy manor, wiltshire  ! 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  @legillimentis  !

"alright, before you come for me, i know what i said-" and it's a relief, really, to spot a familiar face in the crowd and know that it's safe to make a beeline towards her. the malfoy family ball isn't as much of a nightmare as some of the other events that she's been forced to attend, but it still comes with a set of rules for her to follow & expects a certain kind of person, and marietta isn't always good at that. she's done a good job up to now, but the freedom to be herself for a moment is one she won't miss - even if the part of her that now rears its ugly head is the nastier, more gossip oriented marietta edgecombe that not even their sixth year could beat out of her. "but i still have, like...-" she goes to check her watch automatically only to remember that she isn't wearing it and guess, "probably an hour before my resolution to mind my own business more kicks in, so i think this is fair game. have you seen who some of these people have shown up with ? this whole room is a rumor mill article waiting to happen."

[judvs]

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃  :  honestly, that was the craziest shit i’ve ever experienced. 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝚈  :  @rebuildeds​  /  dudley dursley  ! 𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  beaumont court, marjoribanks road !

“well, then, aren’t you lucky that i don’t have to obliviate you ?” believe it or not, that’s marietta’s attempt at a joke. it doesn’t land as well as she thought it would, and rather than elaborate or overexplain it, she makes a face that says something along the lines of fucking hell and then lifts her solo cup to take a desperate gulp and hide the aforementioned expression a few seconds too late. she’d blame the concoction inside her cup sooner than she would the fact that she’s just not very good at this and doesn’t really feel comfortable in present company. dudley seems harmless, probably is, and marietta doesn’t have anything against muggles, but since inserting himself into the wixen world, he’s been in with all the people that she’s been out with. she’s not sure how that bodes. it would literally be easier to just walk away now and stop testing the waters, but she’s never been ANYTHING as well as she has been a self masochist. “you ever see someone’s head turn into a tentacle ?” 

[judvs]

it's a relief to have finally found someone so likeminded. cho is too soft. dudley too close. countless acquaintances have misunderstood marietta's chagrin, read far too deeply or, more commonly, found themselves unable to see beneath the surface of her complaints. she knows that she comes across quite poorly. the sly comments she makes and the dirty looks she sends are childish, no denying, but the HURT that fuels them is very real, and she is never more able to indulge in these more negative emotions than when she's stood at their side, holding a flute of expensive champagne that she's hardly touched, casting evils at the wix currently earning her ire. "i don't get why they bother coming," and there's real confusion coloring her words, this time, influencing the way she looks from them to tempest, divet forming between her brow, "what's the point, if they're just going to huddle together looking sour ?" the irony, of course, is somewhat lost on her.

PROMPT : ‘ maybe they’ll brood each other to death . ’ LOCATION : the atrium ( ministry gala ) FEATURING : @judvs !

“ here's hoping. ”    tempest raises her champagne flute to clink against marietta's own without looking away from the brooders in question. to a point they can understand the anger and frustration from those who had been snubbed at the ministry gala this year, but honestly she doesn't know what they had expected. it's the same thing that happened last year, and they hadn't kicked off nearly enough of a fuss about it at that time, so why wouldn't karkaroff go a step further ?  tempest would've immediately made much more of a hubbub if they were in the da's shoes, so their sympathies were waning with each minute that passed without something drastic happening. it didn't help their attitude that they were getting bored, as well.   “ they're here, aren't they? made it in. they could at least make a scene. ”

[judvs]

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃  :  oh my god, are you crying ? 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝚈  : @qviddiitch​​  /  oliver wood  ! 𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  beaumont court, marjoribanks road  !

“oh my god, wood, are you struggling financially ?” angrily, marietta scrubs at her cheeks to rid herself of the obvious tear tracks before twisting to face him, properly, traitor eyes still glistening. even so, she’s all bite. she hates the idea of being seen as vulnerable even when she’s in that sort of position, most especially when the witness to her misery - exacerbated by whatever was in her red solo cup - is someone that she actually knows, even vaguely. oliver’s mistake is as simple as pointing out the obvious : since he goes that low, at least in her point of view, then she will go lower. “seriously, do we need to start donating, or something ? set up a gofundme to buy you a proper fucking shirt ? you’re thirty something, oliver, this is getting weird.” 

[judvs]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  shrieking shack, hogsmeade  !

“what the...” there was, of course, many an explanation for why the rotten door of the second floor bathroom refused to open for marietta after she had taken her ( much needed ) five minute breather and attempted to rejoin the party. the lock was rusted, the hinges stiff, the bottom of the door had gotten stuck against a decaying floorboard or loosened nail... you name it and, sober, she would’ve entertained them. liquored up and already on edge, the unpleasant jolt of her heart in her chest when the door refused to budge upon tugging was accompanied by what, in her eyes, was a completely natural progression to all out panic. “hey !” raising her voice to a shout in an effort to be heard over the music and general hustle & bustle, and with her wand ( and any spell that might’ve been of use to her ) momentarily forgotten, marietta banged her palms against the door, already considering the idea of bursting her way through if she couldn’t grab the attention of a passerby, “i’m stuck ! is anybody out there ?” 

[judvs]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  hogsmeade village  !

her friend had made her promise to be nice. she’d opened her mouth to argue and been silenced by the look on their face ; they weren’t taking the snowman building competition nearly as seriously as she was, and were worried she was going to embarrass them. begrudgingly, marietta had actually held out her hand to loop gloved pinky fingers, solemnly swearing ( on pain of death - well, not really, but the incompletion of their snowy entry, which was just as bad ) not to cause a scene before stomping off towards the offending sculpture, snow boots crunching pleasantly all the way. she’d been waiting an hour for this entrant to return, and now that she had her chance, fists clenched inside her jacket pockets, her friends chastising voice ringing in her ears, marietta knew that there was only one thing for it - “that’s OUR scarf,” she explodes, immediately, her expression sour as she waits for the other to emerge from behind their creation, ”you took it off our snowman when we went for lunch. i want it back.” 

[judvs]

to this, she just narrows her eyes & scrunches her nose, briefly, in what is almost disgust. marietta isn't often rendered speechless, but marcus flint nearly always manages to stump her. she doesn't them very seriously, for the most part, but looks too deeply where perhaps she shouldn't. isolde had instilled similar such ideals within her, but the hard lump that formed at the back of her throat when she thinks they might share a specific sort of wound dissolves when they continue. he disarms her sometimes, for sure, but luckily the only thing she needs to recover is for them to open their mouth again. "whatever. if you end up in auror holding, that's on you," typically scornful, she rolls her eyes and does her best to act like she doesn't care about that particular outcome, even though she kind of does. he's not her friend, exactly - not someone she'd call one, at least, if asked - but he's probably pretty close, and with cho & dudley nowhere to be seen, as yet, marietta has nobody else to orbit around. marcus is the best she's got, and if they get hauled off by security, the night is going to go drastically downhill. course, it could still manage to do just that if they have their way, and though marietta accepts the flute of champagne offered, her expression darkens all the more with the toast. "don't," she tells them, aiming for decisive and managing to sound whiny, even to her own ears, "that was a farce. someone probably thought it was funny or something- the sooner everyone forgets, the better. including pansy, i'd wager."

prompt:      you  never  know  when  to  stop,  do  you? for:      closed  to  marietta  edgecombe.    (  @judvs  ) location:      the  atrium,  the  tenth  annual  ministry  gala.

＂  i  was  raised  to  believe  quitting  is  failure.    —    amongst  other  …  unseemly  lessons  i’ve  been  instructed  never  to  talk  about.  especially  not  in  public.  ＂  the  flint  household  contained  many  secrets.  oh,  if  only  walls  could  talk.  they  subtly  pocket  the  money  they’ve  just  earned  themself,  a  quick  scan  of  the  room  confirming  no  one  had  seen.  ＂  besides,  they  came  to  me.  i  am  merely  providing  a  service.  ＂  gala  attendees  are  far  from  their  usual  clientele,  but  if  someone  came  to  him  offering  galleons  in  exchange  for  a  potion  that’ll  help  them  through  tonight's  headache,  who  is  he  to  decline?  business  was  business.  both  hands  extend  now  free,  retrieving  two  glasses  from  a  passing  server  and  offering  one  to  marietta  seconds  later.  ＂  i  don’t  believe  i  ever  congratulated  you.  ＂  his  own  flute  is  raised  in  silent  cheers,  lip  twitching  into  roguish  smirk.  ＂  here’s  to  the  burning  witch.  ＂

[judvs]

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃  :  my  parents  were  assholes  with  the  whole  naming  thing. 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝚈  :  @hoggleswart​​  /  marcus  flint​  !

“  what’re  you  again  ?  flint  the  fourth  ?  ”  it’s  typical  of  marietta  to  do  this  ;  act  as  if  she  knows  less  than  she  does,  that  she’s  less  observant  than  she  really  is.  it  serves  no  purpose  except  to  distance  herself  in  some  way,  even  when  she  doesn’t  have  to.  still  -  she’s  in  as  good  a  humour  as  she  can  be,  and  there  is  something  teasing  to  be  found  in  her  tone,  a  small  smile  playing  at  the  corners  of  her  lips.  if  anyone  can  understand  a  shitty  name  (  and,  in  turn,  see  the  funny  side  of  it  )  then  it’s  her  :  if  isolde  edgecombe  had  known  that  MARIETTA  meant  bitter,  would  she  still  have  named  her  in  such  a  self  fulfilling  prophecy  kinda  way  ?  “  they  were  probably  thinking  that  if  it  wasn’t  broke  they  didn’t  have  to  fix  it.  or  just  lazy.  if  it  makes  you  feel  any  better,  you  look  like  a  marcus.  ”

[judvs]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  malfoy  manor,  wiltshire  ! 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  @fathcmsbelow​  /  alecto  carrow  !

“  miss  weiss,  ”  voice  colored  by  how  pleasant  a  surprise  marietta  finds  this  particular  run  in  to  be,  her  previously  gloomy  expression  TRANSFORMS  as  she  twists  around  to  face  her  boss.  she  had  wanted  to  come  here  ;  no  point  pretending  otherwise  when  everything  about  her  screamed  of  that  need  to  be  important.  she  had  leapt  at  the  chance  to  hang  off  some  poor  schmuck’s  arm  because  an  invite  from  the  malfoy  family  was  gold  dust,  to  certain  people,  and  that  definitely  included  her  -  but  no  one  had  prepared  her  for  how  much  of  a  bore  her  date  would  be  once  the  excitement  of  it  all  had  started  to  wear  off.  marietta  had  snuck  off  around  the  time  the  whispers  had  started  to  circulate  the  ballroom  &  because  she’d  been  so  busy  trying  to  ingratiate  herself  with  certain  figures,  she  had  missed  out  on  all  the  fun  of  theorising  about  where  their  hosts  had  disappeared  to  with  all  her  fellow  guests.  she  wasn’t  actually  HAVING  fun  now  that  she  had  traded  any  possibility  of  it  for  currying  favor,  but  evelyn  weiss  provided  a  brief  reprieve  from  much  the  same  whether  she  wanted  to  (  or  not  ).  “  i  didn’t  know  that  you  were  friendly  with  the  malfoy’s,  ”  she  assumes,  which  is  sort  of  ignorant  of  her,  but  marietta  had  never  claimed  to  know  the  perfect  way  to  conduct  herself  in  these  situations,  “  it’s  so  strange  to  see  you  outside  of  obliviation  headquarters.  you  must  love  having  the  night  off.  ”

[judvs]

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃  :  you’ve  done  your  worst. 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝚈  :  @dolors​​​  /  hermione  granger  !

oh,  yes  /  this  was  exactly  the  kind  of  conversation  that  marietta  wanted  to  have  at  NINE  in  the  morning.  she  knew  it  would  never  be  easy  to  share  close  quarters  with  certain  familiar  faces.  she’d  never  once  imagined  it  would  be,  and  usually  succeeded  in  keeping  a  wide  berth  from  the  very  few  that  niceties  couldn’t  be  exchanged  with,  but  a  recent  run  of  good  luck  had  just  happened  to  run  out  at  the  same  moment  she  had  taken  the  ceramic  lid  from  atop  the  sugarpot  and  realised  that  it  was  empty.  their  coworkers  mysteriously  busy  elsewhere  (  with  the  first  in  a  long  list  of  daily  jobs  or  with  the  intent  of  being  anywhere  but  where  the  tensions  were  highest,  she  couldn’t  say,  though  she  suspected  the  latter  )  and  coffee  machine  grumbling  unhappily  in  the  background  of  the  ministry  staff  room,  vicious  whispers  are  traded  back  and  forth  between  old  foes  -  just  like  they  always  were,  when  paths  collided.  “  yes,  hermione.  i  did,  ”  back  still  stubbornly  turned  towards  the  other,  marietta  stirs  her  coffee  with  a  lot  more  force  than  is  totally  necessary,  using  every  other  clockwise  turn  as  a  way  to  regulate  her  breathing,  though  she  needn’t  have  even  tried.  hermione  tends  to  bring  out  the  worst  of  her.  “  so  sad,  but  would  you  please  just  die  mad  about  it,  already  ?  from  the  way  you  go  on  about  it  you’d  think  it  never  worked  out  for  you  in  the  end,  but  it  did,  didn’t  it  ?  you  outsmarted  everyone.  i’m  the  dirty  little  sneak  and  you’re  the  insufferable  know  it  all,  just  like  you  always  were.  hooray.  ”

[judvs]

lovcpotions​:

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐠𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐚 lets out is only loud enough to be heard by those directly beside her , otherwise lost in the noise of the bar on a regular night . perhaps more crowded than it would be on other days of the week , but not more crowded than it would have been in years previous . the sigh , if heard , is a classic sound of lost love , or something close to that . a what - if . something her mother would have told her to keep pursuing if it weren’t for romilda’s embarrassment at getting the wrong target in the first place . something tinged with nostalgia and longing and just a hint of bitterness at the way things have turned out . ❝ isn’t it just sad? ❞ romilda pouts up , cheek leaning against the palm of her hand as she drapes herself against the bar counter . her other hand comes up to trace against the circle of her glass , the very picture of wistfulness . ❝ he still did all the stuff we were celebrating him for anyways . it’s not fair that we stop celebrating him just because he didn’t DIE about it , ❞ at least , publically . and maybe it was gauche , or awkward , or embarrassing for everyone else to keep celebrating a holiday when the foundations of it were different than they initially believed but this sucks . the minister sucks and romilda wants her harry potter day drink prices back and she wants the galas and the parties and the room to be with people who knew what it was like . maybe he didn’t like her back . maybe she was never gonna get the attention she wanted from him . but he died for her and for the rest of them and for his friends and for everybody and wasn’t that reciprocation enough ? ❝ fuck it , ❞ she grabs the glass and raises it to cheer at the room at large . ❝ happy birthday , harry ! ❞

for the record : when marietta nodded an affirmative and mumbled something about yeah and so sad, she WASN’T talking about the loss of harry james potter day. fully distracted by the daily prophet article that she was pored over, she wasn’t exactly paying attention to what romilda vande had to say and, honestly... even if she hadn’t been so focused on rita skeeter’s newest crackpot theory, that probably would’ve remained the same. it’s not that she really DISLIKES the girl or anything, but a lot of what romilda was grated on marietta, a person who had been there and done that but also been an unwilling participant in her own personal chracter development. her subsequent “oh-” is weighted with realisation and she actually looks up, starts to tell her, “well, actually, i think the whole point was that we were only ever celebrating him because he ‘died about it’-” when she lets out the cheer that half the pub proceeds to echo. marietta, not wanting to be in this particular moment, sinks down as much as her barstool would allow in this particular wave of embarrassment washed over her and, with a characteristically venemous hiss that was usually reserved for more threatening gryffindors, says, “shut up, shut up, shut up. what the actual fuck is wrong with you ?” 

[judvs]

𝙿𝚁𝙾𝙼𝙿𝚃  :  i'm going to dress up as the grim reaper because i feel like death. 𝚁𝙴𝚀𝚄𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝙳 𝙱𝚈  :  @bemyhcro​  /  paxton holloway  ! 𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  obliviator headquarters, the ministry of magic !

she really doesn't need to put voice to the thought running through her mind. marietta's face quite often speaks FOR her, and this is no different - 'okay, edgelord,' she thinks, pausing in the stirring of her midday coffee to fix him with a look, all knitted brow & scrunched up nose. she doesn't even try disguise it. not her circus, not her monkeys, of course, and it's not as if she plans to put effort in herself ( this is how it always goes; night of, she'll have a change of heart ), but... "funny joke," she tells him, completely deadpan, "but you can do better than that."

[judvs]

𝙻𝙾𝙲𝙰𝚃𝙸𝙾𝙽  :  the  ministry  of  magic  (  level  two  ),  london  ! 𝙵𝙴𝙰𝚃𝚄𝚁𝙸𝙽𝙶  :  @amarcttos  !

"you look lost," she forgoes a greeting in favour of boldfaced assumption; familiar enough with the auror office occupants to know that she isn't one of them, though anything beyond that is little more than guesswork. she walks the corridors fairly knowingly, for someone who spends so much of her own time at her cubicle, but that was not a talent that was shared by everyone at the ministry. it occurs to her, of course, that she could be from a different department but she suspects not, and though this whole event is about mingling, suspicion clouds her expression. "the presentation is that way-" she motions to the left, back towards the room where it has already been called, "and the elevator is back the way you came. the offices are closed."