Miss Patil Takes a Holiday

Chapter 3: Travel Plans

The Present...

Padma pulled a bag of Galleons out of her handbag for her Portkey ticket. She thanked the agent, a bored, post-Hogwarts teen who had been reading a lurid-covered Romance novel entitled; Love Amongst the Death Eaters. A picture of a large-nosed, dark-haired wizard with a dashing air, who held an equally dashing and buxom, blonde witch, moved erratically on the surface. Both participants looked as if they were in the throes of a grand mal seizure, rather than passion.

Padma suppressed a shudder. Snape-inspired romances had become popular since the man's acquittal some thirteen years ago. Authors either who did not attend Hogwarts in the previous millennia, or who were suffering from early-onset, senile dementia, apparently wrote the tomes. Snape was definitely not Padma's idea of sexual fantasy come-to-life. Yes, he had served his purpose and followed orders like a good soldier, but he was a nightmare on two legs. How a character uttering the inevitable line, “Detention, Mistress Fill-in-the-Insipid-Name, served under me...” could remotely turn anyone on escaped Padma. Snape would no more have shagged a student than he would have given O's in Potions to Neville Longbottom.

And that hair... and those teeth... and those big ears... If Padma looked up the word plain in a dictionary Snape's picture would have scowled and directed her to ugly. He did have a nice voice and a rather well formed arse, if she were being completely honest. Of course, she had only seen the outline of his backside once, and that had been when she was serving detention during her seventh year. She had been less impressed with that aspect of him, and rather more terrified that the Carrows would intervene and take her for the special classes in Dark curses. Still, his intellect was appealing, and his spying might be considered romantic, but his chilly demeanour and cutting remarks were off-putting to Padma. All in all, she decided if he did receive attention of the female variety, it would be out of pity, rather than any appeal on his part.

Padma suppressed a snort of amusement at the thought that he was even interested in sex. There had been rumours about Professor Burbage in fourth year, but she was so pretty and young and Snape was... so Snape.

The agent was staring yawp-mouthed at Padma, the doctor's ticket offered in a limp, ragged-nailed hand. Padma flushed and stuttered an apology as she took the slip of paper. The agent returned to her purple-prose and a flustered Padma exited the office.

She made her way out of the Ministry to meet Tomas in Muggle London for luncheon in a cafe close to his workplace. He was bringing one of his friends from the surgery and had cautioned her to take a little time on herself that morning. She wore a plain while blouse and loose fitting, tan slacks, her normal work-a-day clothes. She had a shift later that day and did not feel like returning to the flat to change. Tomas would not be impressed, and she hoped, neither would her blind date. Padma wanted another person setting her up as much as she wanted to celebrate another birthday.

There was a sore topic. She would be thirty-years-old in August. Maa called her almost everyday with pointed hints about Pradesh's interest in her customary truculent tone. Parvati was held up as a paragon of the virtuous daughter who was already married with baby on the way. It was enough to make Padma scream.

Padma hopped on the Underground, a conveyance she normally did not get to take. She liked the slow pace of the cars, and the anticipation of her arrival. It was noon and relatively busy with the lunch crowd. She shuffled through the mass of people to a find a strap to hang onto. She let her mind wander as the car jolted to a start.

She had decided on the Isle of Delos for her holiday. An island in the Cyclades, it had a relatively small but thriving wizarding community. The only Muggles on the island were archaeologists and a few old shepherds, and both were a seasonal lot. She had chosen that destination because she wanted to visit the Temple of the Asclepian Apollo, the wizard who had laid the groundwork for so many Healing spells some twenty-five-hundred years ago. Padma viewed this destination as a continuation of her post-graduate travels in India. When she visited her parent's homeland after her last disastrous year at Hogwarts, she had already decided her path, and she had toured the Healing temples of India from Tamil Nadu to Gujerat. Since she only had a month this time, she would begin her European tour of such destinations on Delos and perhaps make a day trip to Athens and to Thrace. The Temples of Apollo in those cities had been ruined by Muggle interference and were no longer used, but put in a historical context they might be interesting.

The carriage stuttered to a halt, to let off passengers and let more on. She saw a flash of silver hair above a set of familiar broad shoulders clothed in exquisitely tailored wizarding robes that might pass for Muggle togs if one lived in the last century. She wondered what a pureblood like Malfoy was doing riding a Muggle conveyance. It seemed out of character for him from what she knew of his prejudices. She would have expected, once he was released from his parole, that he would retreat to Malfoy Manor to gather his forces and schmooze his way to power again. Her hands fluttered to her hair as he turned, his wintry gaze warming as he spied her. He mouthed, "Mona Lisa."

She blushed as she cursed under her breath at the scenes of her last shameful interlude with him the night before his son's wedding, flashed through her mind. He probably thought her a sensualist or desperate, maybe both and neither idea suited Padma. One stop from her destination at the Tooting-Broadway station, Padma pushed herself to the door. Several men politely cleared a path for her, Londoners born and bred most likely.

A greasy-looking man, a throwback to the nineteen-eighties with his shaved head and leather clad back, shoved her against the door. "Oi, ya dizzy bint, I dare say ye’ll notice me next time."

He held her upper arms in a bruising grip as he ground his jeans clad groin into her backside, his breath fouled with cigarettes and beer fanning across her cheek. Padma slammed her thin-heeled shoe into his instep, knowing that his Doc Martens would deflect any pain. If the train were not so full of Muggles, she would have drawn her wand and hexed the oaf, Magical Reversal Squad be damned. He was hurting her. "Wot say, I teach you some foine English manners, yeh dirty Paki bitch. We'll have some fun, luv."

He grabbed her breast and pinched.

Tears sprang to her eyes. Never in her life had Padma been treated with such disrespect for her femininity and disdain for her heritage. The wizarding world, while hidebound, blood-prejudiced and ever so slightly sexist, was willing to overlook culture and gender for degrees of purity. As the doors swished open, Padma felt a shove to her back from her attacker. She fell on her knees as her heel caught between the platform and the doorway. Suddenly, a cool, pale hand was on her ankle, freeing her. Lucius Malfoy's wintry voice reached past the pounding in her ears. "We seem destined to save each other, Dr. Patil."

He swept his arctic gaze to her attacker who was the only other person to have followed her off the car. As the train pulled from the deserted station, Lucius commanded in his most cutting, cultured tone, "Introduce me to your Muggle friend."

Lucius Malfoy was in a rage, if Padma could tell by the working of his jaw and the strong pulsing of his carotid above the pristine linen collar. Lucius fixed his wand on the man, who laughed stupidly in the face of such fury as he drew a knife from his boot. "Whut's the stick for, to poke me i' t'eye, ya old perv? I got me own, see?"

Padma felt the crackling energy of Dark magic as Lucius continued his cold appraisal of the fool. The skinhead-throwback continued his derisive braying and brandishing until he was blasted with the bright, blue light of a silent curse with which Padma was vaguely familiar. Blood welled from a slice on his chest. Lucius’ wand cut again, slicing the man's legs with a flick. The wizard stood to his full height, his hair brushing the collar of his robes. Another flick and the man began to scrabble backward, away from Lucius' advancing attack. Padma rushed to stand, her ankle twinging painfully. The blonde wizard raised his wand again, his face contorted in a skull-like, grinning rictus. Padma had only seen such an expression once, and that had been on the face of a Death Eater who was aiming at her sister at the Final Battle. The Muggle fell, now writhing and gasping as the wounds deepened. Padma screamed, "Mr. Malfoy! No!"

The former Death Eater continued to advance his movements panther-like and deliberate even encumbered by his cane. He blasted another curse, and the man flew against the tile wall. The skinhead drew a rattling, painful breath as Lucius levelled his wand for another curse.

"Expelliarmus!" Padma shrieked as Malfoy's wand made another slash. His wand flew to her hand, the spell sending shards of tile through the air, as Lucius hissed a harsh exhalation in the echoing tunnel. She stunned the Muggle and rushed to him. The damage to the Muggle's body wrought by the enraged Malfoy scion was getting worse, and the blood was spreading. She slipped as she bent to the prone body, her trousers and hands sticky with the red liquid. She barked harshly, "What is the counter-curse?"

"Leave, Doctor" Malfoy's tone was dull, his face devoid of all emotion, his utter stillness alarming. Coldness seeped into Padma along with a healthy dose of fear of the type she had not felt since seventh-year.

The doctor began running through her repertoire of counter-curses, finally finding an ancient Egyptian spell that staunched the blood-flow but did nothing to seal the wounds. Lucius sank to his knees next to her as he kicked the knife out of the man‘s hand. He plucked his wand from her numb fingers, and began singing. Once the wounds were sealed, Lucius stood and whispered, "Obliviate."

He jerked her to a stand by her hand and began hauling her away as she turned to check the man. She struggled against his crushing grip until she heard the distinctive pops of Apparation resounding in the Tube station. Lucius said coldly, "Don't be a fool."

He flicked his wand and a door marked Restricted opened with a sharp snick. He thrust her ahead of him and then cast a complex series of wards. He drew her closer, his arms like bands of steel around her ribs. Without a word, he Disapparated them from the dank interior to the hallway of a large ruined Mansion. Padma struggled against him as he cast another series of spells, his concentration never breaking. He settled her against him, pressing her harder against the length of his body and Disapparated to a second location on a sunny moor. Padma felt as if she were swooning and clawed at his arms feebly. Lucius Disapparated them a third time and carried Padma to a small bedroom in a well-appointed apartment. He strode from the room thundering, "Dibby!"

He closed and then locked the door behind him.

&*&*&

Lucius had lost what little control he possessed when he saw the Muggle filth manhandling his Mona Lisa. Legilimancy had given him the impetus to act. The man had stalked her since she left her flat that morning and had extremely dark designs on her person. He knew he should have approached the situation differently, but could not when he saw that the Muggle planned to hurt her badly. He thanked the gods that Ian had taught him about the Underground. He never would have thought to use it to get to his noon luncheon with the Priest at the Monsignor's residence.

Lucius reflected on the changes wrought on him these last two months. There seemed to be so many variants of his persona these days. Hogwarts Lucius would have left her there to deal with the Aurors and the mess on her own. That would have been the smart thing to do. Leave her to face the questions, after a quick Obliviation on both her and the Muggle, while Lucius escaped. Death Eater Lucius would and have ignored the danger in which she found herself, no doubt scoffing at a witch taking a Muggle conveyance. Spy Lucius would have left no traces and gotten her out of there. The new Erratic Lucius, the Lucius who read the books of Father Cavanaugh, who had lived twelve brutal years of his life in Azkaban, the Lucius who had lost everything; he wanted to annihilate the vermin and make sure the girl was safe by any means necessary. That was the Lucius who endangered his freedom by kidnapping a war hero and respected physician and hexing a Muggle within an inch of his life. An urge to swear swept over him, which he suppressed out of habit. He no longer had the excuse of his stroke for that particular ill-bred weakness.

Abraxas' ghost still had a strong hold over his son. That much had not changed about Lucius.

Lucius drew out a bottle of firewhisky from the bar, surprised at the amount left only one day after he purchased it. He was drinking too much to make up for the hole left in his life over the losses he suffered. He grimaced as he realised his only friends were a house elf that he had tried to give away and a Muggle moralist. He had no wife and a son who avoided him on general principle. The same son who was off hunting Snape, the compatriot that had abandoned him to his fate twelve years ago. Gone were the days of familial supremacy. A new, Malfoy-less era ruled the wizarding world. He poured two fingers of the whisky with a shaking hand and slugged down the liquid amber. Lucius shuddered as the drink hit his oesophagus and threatened to return.

"Master called?" The house elf bowed his forehead and ears scraping the floor. Lucius poured another glass and noted with some satisfaction the small moue of displeasure on the elf's face.

"Dr. Patil is in the guest room. Draw a bath and fetch some clothes for her from Harrods or some such place. She likes Muggle clothing." Lucius downed the second glass. "I shall return later this evening. When the doctor chooses to leave please escort her to her destination and ensure her safety.”

"Yes, Master." The elf disappeared with a soft pop.

Lucius summoned parchment and a quill and wrote a brief note of apology, giving a sketchy explanation of his actions, and begging the doctor's forgiveness. He knew he would never see her again, her fear of him had been palpable during the conflict, and so her rejection of his supplication did not sting as much as it might. As he folded the parchment and left it on the mantle, he could not help but regret his hasty actions. He would miss Mona Lisa no matter how tenuous their connection.

Lucius cast Tergeo on his bloodstained trousers and Disapparated to the priest's hovel, hoping he could catch the man before he left for the monsignor's residence.

&*&*&

Padma, after attempting and failing to Disapparate, began pounding on the door. She needed to return to the tunnel to explain what happened. Both of their magical signatures were at the crime scene.

Fear still clung to her like shreds of sticky cobweb. The steely weapon that she had seen today was not the man she had idealised over the past months, and certainly not the ironic, handsome aristocrat she had kissed. His coldness and control terrified her. What he had inflicted on the Muggle... she shivered. A faint pop of Disapparation drew her from her reverie and made her renew her efforts to leave the gilded prison in which she found herself.

After what seemed like hours, a wizened house elf opened the door. It bowed, its ears drooping to the floor. "Master bid Dibby to draw a bath for Mistress Doctor Patil. She is to give Dibby her clothes and change into these."

The elf held out a garnet-coloured, silk blouse and natural, linen trousers, the tags from a Muggle couturier still dangling from the garments. Padma attempted to push past the elf, but was compelled backward by an unknown force. The elf frowned. "Dibby is to escort Mistress wherever she wishes. Master is... sorry for his actions. Dibby can tell. Master left Mistress Doctor a note."

The elf pulled a creamy length of folded parchment from its pillowcase and held it out to Padma. She reached for it, still filled with a nightmare sense of wrongness. "Thank you, Dibby."

"Your bath, Mistress Doctor... it is through there." The elf bowed deferentially once more as it pointed to a door Padma had not seen before, and then it disappeared with a soft pop, the sound in the silence of the room like a nipple exiting a nursing infant's mouth.

&*&*&

Ian greeted Lucius from the rectory office, his smile warm, "I thought we were going to meet at the Monsignor's residence... Lucius, have you been drinking?"

Malfoy sank heavily to a chair, his hands firmly gripped around his silver-tipped cane to quell the shivers that had taken hold since he left his flat. He turned his lifeless, argent gaze to the fireplace, now deadened and black in the heat of the summer. “I needed it.”

"Take my word for it; No one needs alcohol, Lucius." Ian spread his large, blunt-fingered hand on the top of his desk. "Do you wish to talk about it?"

A harsh, choking laugh escaped Lucius' throat. "I don't think you want to hear it, Muggle apologist that you are."

Ian closed his eyes as if in pain. "I had thought things had changed between us, Lucius."

"We haven't the time, Ian, to explore our changed relationship." Lucius stood, almost in command of his body, but still leaned heavily on the cane. "The Monsignor awaits, if I am not mistaken."

"Sod him." Ian's tone was conversational, but his face flushed. "We can reschedule."

Lucius turned his back to the priest, his movements slow and measured. "I don't believe we can, Ian. I shall be leaving England at the end of the day."

"I don't understand, what of your daughter-in-law and your plans for the shelter?" The priest's face fell.

Lucius smirked. "I shall keep tabs on Elspeth through my normal contacts, and I shall not shirk my financial duties."

Lucius pulled a Gringott's bank draft from the interior of his waistcoat. "I think I shall miss the meeting today. Please convey my deepest regrets and this voucher to the Monsignor."

He handed the draft to the priest. Ian's eyes flicked to the paper and he stuttered, "L-Lucius, this is for... half a million pounds."

"A mere drop in the bucket for all you have done for my family." Lucius' turned a frosty smile to the Muggle. "I trust you will put it to good use."

Lucius strode to the door. "Priest, thank you for all your kindness. I wish you well."

&*&*&

Padma sat across from Seamus Finnegan, his stuffy office stacked with case-files and littered with still fluttering Ministry memo's. Finnegan, in his official capacity still looked like the jug-eared child Padma had first met years ago. In his soft, Dublin accent, he asked, "So you're telling me, that you and Lucius Malfoy just happened t'be ridin' t'Underground at t'same time and out of nowhere, a man attacked you. Then Malfoy, a known Death Eater and Muggle-baiter, cursed t'self-same fellow, and healed him. Then he took you on a Death Eater scramble finally ending at his flat. Is that correct?"

"I know it sounds ridiculous, but that's what happened." Padma's voice sounded annoying, even to herself. "He left a note explaining his actions. He said the man had been stalking me."

Finnegan's face contorted in a grimace of near pain. "T'Muggle had been. We Legilimised him."

"So, what Malfoy said was true? I was in some danger?" Padma felt a throat clogging fear and struggled against nausea.

Finnegan would not meet her eyes. "You still are. We couldn't hold him on what he intended to do."

"Oh." Padma sank back in the uncomfortable chair. "I see."

"We'll set up MLE surveillance for you." Finnegan's next words were obviously practised. "We would expect you to exercise some caution, stay out of Muggle areas, stick to Magical mans of transportation, have wards set up on your flat and t'like."

"What of Mr. Malfoy?" Padma asked, unsure why she cared after his high-handed actions of the morning and his utter disregard for her feelings. "He did save me. Will he be charged with anything?"

Finnegan looked as if he swallowed a bite of lemon. "There will be no prosecution, but you two should have stayed. It would have made less paperwork."

Padma snarked, "Yes I should have considered your workload before I was abducted. So sorry."

&*&*&

Dibby mournfully packed what Lucius would need for his extended stay on the continent. Once done, Malfoy cast a shrinking and lightening charm on the ornate trunk and placed it in the pocket of his travelling robes. Lucius would not risk exposure to the Ministry and so opted for a hastily and illegally made Portkey. The elf clucked his tongue as he observed, "Master should wait before he goes. Mistress Doctor said she was going to explain to the traitorous Aurors. Master is no longer the bad Death Eater he was, Mistress Doctor knows this."

Lucius raised his cane, as if to strike the little beast, but only tapped the cringing figure on the shoulder. "I shall send for you when I am more settled, Dibby. Now, if you do not wish to have to iron your ears, you will desist in your useless nattering and allow me to leave."

"Master knows what Master must do, but Dibby will always be faithful." The house elf scraped once more before asking slyly, "Is there no one Master wishes to inform of his cowardly fleeing?"

"Soon it will be more than an ironed ear, Dibby." Lucius iterated. "You are ordered to watch Mistress Elspeth and my two grandsons until Master Draco returns. That will be all."

The elf's shoulders fell, then straightened as he drew a breath to speak. Lucius drew back his cane intending a well-placed blow at the elf's buttocks. "Must I treat you as I have in the past, Dibby, to receive your compliance?"

"No, Master." The elf's eyes filled with tears as his Master activated the Portkey and disappeared. Lucius was sorry about the manner in which they parted.

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