21st, following this
The next morning, Walt still hadn't known what to do about it, or, for that matter, what to do with it. He probably ought to have thrown it away, but he was afraid that if he just unceremoniously dropped it in the bin in his room one of the servants would see it when they emptied the trash there and either know or guess what it was and what it was used for. That was rather mortifying in and of itself, and if he tried to throw it away in the house there was also the possibility, however slight, that Eleanora might get wind of it. The idea of his wife noticing anything so minute whilst still in the middle of her campaign was so far fetched it was almost laughable, but there was still a chance. What was the alternative, however? Wad it up into a ball and stick it in his coat pocket and then try and slip it into a bin on the street, or in the hallway of the Ministry? Ridiculous.
So he'd folded it back up and placed it in its box, as though nothing at all were the matter. The box went to the back of one of his wardrobe drawers, and Walt went off to work.
He didn't know how to get contraceptives. That question weighed on his mind most of the day, on and off, and he realized with growing mortification that he would have to ask someone. His wife knew, but that was out of the question - he'd determined to keep this away from Eleanora and he wasn't going to back down on that resolution now. He assumed his wife had learned it from a book, but he wasn't sure he had the kind of time required to replicate her research. He wouldn't even really know where to start, which made the task rather daunting. There was also the problem of where he would conduct said research. He could hardly bring books on contraceptives into work and have them strewn out on his desk all day, but if he tried to do this at home there was, again, the chance that Eleanora would take notice and ask him about it, and force him to have the conversation he was trying very hard not to have.
Eventually, after turning the question over and over in his mind, Walt decided on what he thought would be the best course of action. He didn't want to ask anyone about this, but if he did have to have the conversation, he certainly only wanted to have it once. He needed to choose someone who he was fairly confident would have an inkling of the answer, and someone that he trusted not to say anything about his request to anyone else, besides. That narrowed the pool quite a bit, but the man he eventually landed on was Evander Darrow. He'd been married for three years, and to the best of Walt's knowledge his wife, Laura, had never been pregnant. That was conspicuously long, and it didn't seem at all unlikely in his current state of mind that the Darrows may have been childless by choice rather than by coincidence.
Evander had talked about wanting children, but then, so had Walt. They probably talked about it with equal frequency, truth be told, but expressing that sentiment didn't mean much, as he knew. He'd been casually talking about wanting more children for seven years, using words like when instead of if in that regard, but that hadn't equated to the Brownhills actually trying for more children for all that time. Maybe Mrs. Darrow had the same sort of thoughts that Walt vaguely felt his own wife had. If she did, it certainly wasn't any of his business. He hadn't even been able to confront that conversation with his own wife, so he could hardly offer up any commentary on the nature of other married couples' relationships.
The point being, Evander Darrow seemed like the best bet, within Walt's friend circle, for a man who might know how to find a condom.
Obviously, he wasn't going to bring it up in the Ministry break room. He went to Merlin's after work, and was quite relieved to see that Evander was there. Walt got a pint at the counter (not because he wanted it, particularly, but because a pint glass full of something thinly yellow and frothy was a necessary prop in the gentleman's club, he felt) before heading over and sitting down in the chair beside him. "I'm glad you're here," he said rather honestly. "I needed to ask you something. I'm in a bit of a difficult position."
@'Evander Darrow' @'Cassius Lestrange'
The next morning, Walt still hadn't known what to do about it, or, for that matter, what to do with it. He probably ought to have thrown it away, but he was afraid that if he just unceremoniously dropped it in the bin in his room one of the servants would see it when they emptied the trash there and either know or guess what it was and what it was used for. That was rather mortifying in and of itself, and if he tried to throw it away in the house there was also the possibility, however slight, that Eleanora might get wind of it. The idea of his wife noticing anything so minute whilst still in the middle of her campaign was so far fetched it was almost laughable, but there was still a chance. What was the alternative, however? Wad it up into a ball and stick it in his coat pocket and then try and slip it into a bin on the street, or in the hallway of the Ministry? Ridiculous.
So he'd folded it back up and placed it in its box, as though nothing at all were the matter. The box went to the back of one of his wardrobe drawers, and Walt went off to work.
He didn't know how to get contraceptives. That question weighed on his mind most of the day, on and off, and he realized with growing mortification that he would have to ask someone. His wife knew, but that was out of the question - he'd determined to keep this away from Eleanora and he wasn't going to back down on that resolution now. He assumed his wife had learned it from a book, but he wasn't sure he had the kind of time required to replicate her research. He wouldn't even really know where to start, which made the task rather daunting. There was also the problem of where he would conduct said research. He could hardly bring books on contraceptives into work and have them strewn out on his desk all day, but if he tried to do this at home there was, again, the chance that Eleanora would take notice and ask him about it, and force him to have the conversation he was trying very hard not to have.
Eventually, after turning the question over and over in his mind, Walt decided on what he thought would be the best course of action. He didn't want to ask anyone about this, but if he did have to have the conversation, he certainly only wanted to have it once. He needed to choose someone who he was fairly confident would have an inkling of the answer, and someone that he trusted not to say anything about his request to anyone else, besides. That narrowed the pool quite a bit, but the man he eventually landed on was Evander Darrow. He'd been married for three years, and to the best of Walt's knowledge his wife, Laura, had never been pregnant. That was conspicuously long, and it didn't seem at all unlikely in his current state of mind that the Darrows may have been childless by choice rather than by coincidence.
Evander had talked about wanting children, but then, so had Walt. They probably talked about it with equal frequency, truth be told, but expressing that sentiment didn't mean much, as he knew. He'd been casually talking about wanting more children for seven years, using words like when instead of if in that regard, but that hadn't equated to the Brownhills actually trying for more children for all that time. Maybe Mrs. Darrow had the same sort of thoughts that Walt vaguely felt his own wife had. If she did, it certainly wasn't any of his business. He hadn't even been able to confront that conversation with his own wife, so he could hardly offer up any commentary on the nature of other married couples' relationships.
The point being, Evander Darrow seemed like the best bet, within Walt's friend circle, for a man who might know how to find a condom.
Obviously, he wasn't going to bring it up in the Ministry break room. He went to Merlin's after work, and was quite relieved to see that Evander was there. Walt got a pint at the counter (not because he wanted it, particularly, but because a pint glass full of something thinly yellow and frothy was a necessary prop in the gentleman's club, he felt) before heading over and sitting down in the chair beside him. "I'm glad you're here," he said rather honestly. "I needed to ask you something. I'm in a bit of a difficult position."
@'Evander Darrow' @'Cassius Lestrange'
![[-]](https://old.charmingrp.com/images/collapse.png)
