No Hang-ups

-No Hang-ups-

-Chapter One-

The radio static dissolved into song as a pale hand reached over to change the station.

//You like to do it, nothing wrong with that

What do you mean, you hate your mother,

Oh well come on little more a little more

Can I, please... Be my cat...//

"Mmm. That sounds like quite an idea."

Bloody hell. I woke him up. Tabby smiled as best as she could and shut the radio off, plunging the room into early-morning silence. "Quite." She lifted her eyebrows. "But don't you have places to be?"

"I can always spare time for you, love." She tried hard not to wince at that word. She could barely even remember this guy's name (Marcus Flint, wasn't he? God, if he was half as good-looking as he thinks he is he'd be the sexiest bloke in Hogsmeade) and he was calling her love?

"Yes, but I wouldn't want you to be late." She pressed herself up against his bare chest, kissed him lightly a few times, and then pulled away.

"Tease," he muttered, sitting up and yawning. She pushed herself upright and his arms immediately wrapped around the bare inch or so of her waist showing. Personal space, Flint, ever hear of it? Or does being 'Gods gift to women' give you the right to ignore that? Damn, even Snape is Apollo compared to you...as I should well know, eh? She smirked at that thought.

"So?" he muttered against her cheek.

Oh no. Oh no, oh damn. "So?" she repeated, drawing out the word, trying to sound as if she was just playing a game with him.

"You little tease." Marcus laughed, his breath warm against her cold neck, and it took all her self-control to not pull away. "So, back here, tonight? I can tell Susan I was delayed by work again..."

Bile rose in Tabby's throat. Holy fuck, he's married! I forgot. I thought I told myself I wouldn't do this anymore. I wasn't going to be the other woman. "Will she buy it again? You've used it three months in a row."

"Babe, she'll believe anything I tell her." His lips attacked her neck and she pulled away without thinking. "Hey, what's the big deal?"

"Oh, you shouldn't do that to your wife." She looked over her shoulder at him and smiled teasingly. "Tell you what... wait another few months, and then we'll have a real party between the two of us." Her fingers trailed down his chest, and she watched his eyes light up with desire. Disgust rocked her insides.

"Alright. Five months. And it better be worth the wait." He wrapped his arms around her tightly and gave her a long kiss that she could've done without.

She laid back down as he went to shower and dress, still tired despite having slept a long time last night. It was like she was running on empty on nights like these, with guys like Marcus who treated her like their whore. So her track record wasn't exactly squeaky-clean. Big deal. She was still a lady and some part of her was still a hopeless romantic, wanting flowers, candy, chairs pulled out for her and doors held open. Instead it seemed like she encountered nothing more then a string of guys who wanted to hide in hotel rooms so they wouldn.t be seen, only to attack her as soon as the door was shut and the locking charm cast. Once in a while she was lucky, she met a nice man in the Three Broomsticks, but it was rare and they hardly ever stuck around long. Intimidated by her, she would say if she had to guess.

With a sigh, she watched Marcus go. Who was the last nice man she had known that hadn't banged her within four hours of meeting? Oh right... Remus Lupin. She smiled, remembering fourth year. The first teacher she ever wondered about romantically. What kind of girl did he like... were his lips as soft as they seemed? Of course, that was when she was in her denial period still.

Denial. She was still in denial. Denial of everything, of herself, of her family, of her choices. Of her life.

Softly, she sang the end of the song she hated, the song that seemed to be written for her, the song she'd just happened to hear that morning.

"Yes you're quite alone, how do you feel

I'm so glad, look in the bed

Take it easy, everything will be just fine

You don't seem to be afraid, that's wonderful

No I have no hang-ups, I have no hang-ups

How about you? You like to do it

Nothing wrong with that

What do you mean you hate your mother?

Oh well come on little more a little more..."

She broke her singing off with a choked sob and turned onto her stomach, muffling her crying with the pillows. Just another morning for Tabby.

  ---

It was nice to be back home after the past two weeks at Diagon Alley. Tabby stretched and yawned, curling up in her bed.

Was it really two weeks? It seemed like forever to her. First Madame Malkin asked her, as a favor, to fill in for Ginny Weasley, who had taken off a week and a half to go to her brother's wedding. She chuckled. I can't believe Ron actually convinced Lisa to marry him, she thought sleepily.

She'd filled in before at Madame Malkin's, and it was fun. But now it was at the Hogwarts rush, when all the first-years and some of the older kids were coming to get their robes. It wasn't fun, it was too damn busy.

Then she ran into Harry. Harry Potter. He made her last year at school a living hell, and seeing him again wasn't pleasant at first. It took a couple of drinks at the Leaky Cauldron before they were yelling at each other in anger of things that happened eight years ago. It didn't take many more before, somehow, she ended up in bed with him two nights in a row. They always ended up in bed with her. It was the truth. She wasn't irresistibly sexy or anything. Just easy. Easy with a good reputation, a reputation for being the Hogsmeade town slut, at least.

Then there was Marcus. Marcus Flint, who thought he was a stud and all the girls should fall into his lap. Some idiot Hufflepuff pureblood had married him. Tabby pitied the girl, she didn't know her husband cheated on her when he said he was 'away on business'. And a lot of the times it was with her. They had spent three nights in her room at the Leaky Cauldron.

There's no reason for the men to go after you so much, is there, Marietta? The thought startled her into sitting up. She bit her lips as she turned it over in her mind, staring at herself in the mirror across from her bed.

"For Heaven's sake, if you're going to stare at yourself so mournfully, do something to improve your looks! Get some sunlight, you look like a vampire!" the mirror said in it's ever-cheerful female voice. "Curl your hair a bit as well, it's too straight. Why did you charm it red, deary, when it looks horrible with your light coloring?"

Marietta rolled her eyes, annoyed. "Next thing you'll say is to put some meat on my bones," she muttered.

"Now that you mentioned it, it's not a bad idea, you're far too skiny for your height. How did you ever grow to be that tall I'll never know, I've seen your mother, she's so short!"

"Oh, do go on with the rest of my faults," she said dryly, crossing her arms behind her head and closing her eyes.

"As long as you're giving your agreement to do so, you need to get some life in those eyes of yours. They're such a light, pretty shade of blue, if only they had some more spark they would be quite a thing to look at. I'd remark on your nose, but there's something you can't help."

"Well, thank the Goddess for small favors. Are you quite done?"

"Quite. Don't get smart with me, Missy," the mirror warned, amusement in it's voice. Marietta had a sudden mental image of the bottom of it's circular frame twisted in a smirk, and had to open her eyes to reasure herself that it hadn't suddenly become the glass spawn of Draco Malfoy.

"I can't help it, I'm so smart!" she replied, then laughed. Giving sarcasm to a mirror, Tabby? That's just wrong! "Why aren't you nice like the mirror at my parent's house?" She swung her legs over the side of the bed, examining herself from the side. As much as she hated it, the mirror was right about everything except for her weight. She'd worked hard to stay that skinny. But everything else, right down to the prominent nose, was dead-on. Only her weight, height and full chest redeemed her. She felt plain, maybe even ugly.

"Because I'm me, and you picked me, so don't complain," the mirror replied. "Now rest. You look like you've had a long two weeks."

She smiled and laid down, snuggling under the covers. Sometimes she forgot why she loved her bedroom so much. She was just drifting off when the other reason she couldn't believe the men went after her popped into her head.

Her little secret. The one that she was afraid would spill out when she was at parties, or that was obvious when she was kissing a guy. That thing she'd been denying since she was eleven years old...

And she wouldn't admit it now.