There were few things worse than a love potion, and one of them was losing her virtue to a love potion. She'd realized the seriousness of her actions even while under its effects; her lover had abandoned her before she could find out where he lived, leaving her a heartbroken—and deflowered—mess.

However, it was two morning afterward that the despair over a lost lover was replaced by the despair of a lost virtue. The longing transformed into repulsion, and the panic set in. She remembered every minute, every hour, that had taken place over her three-day high, but could not for the life of her remember why she made such brash, impulsive, irresponsible decisions! After minutes of deep breathing exercises, Dionisia concluded the only fortunate element in this piss poor situation was that there was no one to be disappointed in her. There was no family to scandalize, and few friends to embarrass. And if circumstances forced her to make sudden changes, well...

She was a muggleborn. She could survive in the muggle world as a muggle, and \with a few month's training she could serve as a muggle nurse. She would start saving, just in case, and then—

"Well, hopefully it won't come to that," she murmured, clutching the pink envelope in her hand.

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