Needless to say Mother was quite busy, and I led a very free life untill I was perhaps three; or so I am told. I have also been told that it was this same excess of freedom which spoiled me, but I will get to that later.
The house on Martha's Vineyard was a huge, rambling affair dating from early colonial times, that had been overdressed in copious gingerbread work in the late 1800s by my father's well-meaning mother. The old place looked ridiculous, rather like a dour pilgrim force by some mischance to done a Southern Belle's laces; nevertheless, I was quite taken with it as a child. There seemed an endless quality to it's attics and cupboards. I could always be sure to find something new hidden away, to get into on a rainy day. And the house was built just a bit back from the shore, a situation any child would love. On the other three sides the house was surrounded by hoary old sugar maples, oaks, and pine, which were forever dropping branches upon our roof, or being blasted by lightening.
The excessive freedom of my early childhood was soon enough reined in. A young witch must be properly educated, I was told one day. The next, an elderly aunt arived to begin it. Aunty, as I was instructed to call her, started me right away on table manners, the primary thrust being to hold my tongue at all times unless spoken to. Then we began to perfect the art of foot massage, a skill, Aunty assured, me every young witch should cultivate. We took a stab at the three Rs, then turned to other more important matters, such as poise and proper grooming, and a bit more foot massage, which is a tricky subject to master.
My next tutor was much more rigorous, and at age nine I was enrolled at Beaux Batons, the traditional school for young women in the Malfoy family.
Also traditional was that we young witches should spend our holidays in Poitou, at The Malfoy's, under the supervision of Draconia. Thus Grandmere would come to know us. We each hopefully attempted to impress her, with much helpful advice from our mothers, so that she would perhaps take special care in arranging our lives. In my mind, the fact that she has lived to such a ripe age proves she must have done a fair job at it. With one thing and another, Mother's advice, and my special skills, I soon was calling the old woman, Granny, as all of her favorites did, and was spending my summers in France, as well as holidays.
One of Granny's duties, her chief duty to we who were her maids, was to oversee the deflowering of virgins. Not personally, of course, but to arrange with whom that part of our education was to take place, and see to the details, travel arrangements and such. This is not as suprising as it might sound at first, and certainly not a intended as a decadent thing. You see, in the wizarding world it is understood that the attitude of the parents, in the act of procreation, passes along to the child. So that a child created out of lust, for instance, is a lesser child than one conceived in compassion, or even love. So sexuality, rather than being allowed to develope according to chance, in a harsh world, where young witches and wizards are too often exploited or violated in such a way that they are emotionally scarred, perhaps for the rest of their lives, is delicately introduced, and the proper attitude cultivated. And, of course there are many practcal aspects to be learned, potions and charms pertinent to the subject, and other such.
How well one does actually is reported back to Granny, becomming part of her future decissions regarding marriage. For instance, a youth who's attitude is flawed toward indolence, would be married to a witch of feiry disposition; or a witch who is cold hearted might be married to an overly passionate man. The idea being to ballance out flaws and create a greater new generation every generation. It is done with the consent of all parties involved. No one is ever coersed into their first sexual experience, or told whom they must accept as first lover. Of course the system is only as good as the people who are a part of it, so I shouldn't expect too many muggle families ought try this approach to things. I hear muggles have an aversion to this sort of thing anyway.
So, the idea is to procreate properly, the side effect is that the majority of us are excellent lovers, and have an attitude of disdain, even disgust, toward what we think of as low, animal (some say muggle) sex (some say rutting). Again you may imagine the trail of broken hearted would-be lovers who were not up to snuff, and muggle-borns who understand none of these things.
What I am leading up to, of course, is my own deflowering.