Miss Patil Takes a Holiday

Thanks to Jilliane and LaBibliographe for your kind comments.

This chapter beta'ed by Drusilla of Perfect Imagination.

Chapter 4: Heart Problems

One fortnight previously...

On July tenth, Anno Domini 2010, Lucius Malfoy lost faith in himself.

July 9, 2010

Lucius' day began as it normally did during his time with the Muggle priest. He was up before dawn, preparing the day's offering to the addicted and downtrodden masses of the East End. At seven o’clock, he managed to grab his own meal of a sandwich and anaemic coffee, which was a better brew than he received in Azkaban, but not up to Malfoy standards by a long shot. He was used to the schedule after his months on probation and even thought he might miss it when he left.

Lucius picked up the novel he had started the night before which he found in the lost and found bin. The story was from a genre called Science Fiction by an American author, Frank Herbert. It was an interesting insight into the way Muggles viewed magic of a sort and practitioners of the magical arts. He felt a slight affinity with the Baron Harkonnen, a canny bastard who was trying to consolidate his power while clinging to an outmoded way of life. He was somewhat less taken by the Arakin worship of the Muad d'ib character, a young messiah who would save a planet by destroying the power structure of the universe's governing bodies. Messianic literary figures had never been a favourite of Lucius'. He had lived through two of the real thing, one Dark, one Light, and both children in their own way. Even so, Lucius was captivated by the story.

Colin Paisley popped his head into the office as Lucius marked his place with a blue hair-ribbon, also from the lost and found. "Mr. Malfoy, the last of the breakfast has been served. Did you want us to set up for lunch? "

"No, just clean your area and go home. I have some inventory to do before we will be ready for set-up, and I know your schedule is quite tight today." Lucius lifted the stained volunteer schedule. "Mr. Paisley, I was under the impression you would be serving tomorrow."

"No, I can't. It's my fourth year sober and my wife's throwing a party for me in the afternoon. I asked one of the blokes from Wednesdays to work for me." Colin beamed at the wizard. "Alice wanted me to ask you to come. She said there'll be a few women there from her office."

Lucius masterfully hid a grimace behind the schedule. Since Draco's wedding, the Paisley boy had worked at the shelter two days a week to give back to the community that he had stolen from while he was in the throes of his heroin addiction. In addition to that bit of community service, young Paisley took it upon himself to set Lucius up with the most eligible females he knew. The boy had a distinct air of a crusader about him when he dealt with the elder Malfoy.

"I shall see what I can do, Mr. Paisley." Lucius gave a wan smile before levering from behind the rickety office desk. Once Malfoy’s shift was over at lunch, he had business on Diagon Alley. Lucius shuddered at the thought that he had joined the ranks of the employed who worked in shifts, no less. The end was near for that little disgrace; thank the gods for that. Lucius was in the process of consolidating his considerable holdings from various banking institutions, both wizarding and Muggle, from around the world and would see a return of most, if not all of the Galleons he had lost to the Dark Lord and then later the Ministry. His trip to Diagon Alley would end his fiscal paucity and usher him back into more civilised circles.

&*&*&

Padma went to work by the St. Mungo's Floo connection, something she normally did not do, instead preferring to take a leisurely stroll from her flat just over a mile away. The Chief of the MICU had Patronus-called just that morning, two hours after her shift ended, to tell her she was needed as soon as possible. There had been an accident at a fireworks plant just outside Chelsea near a primary school for magical children that had been holding holiday classes for students who were going to Hogwarts in the next year. St. Mungo’s MICU was taking the wizarding victims that were near the epicentre of the blast. There were nine physicians on staff and all had been called. Padma had dragged herself out of bed after only an hour of sleep, slammed down a Pepper-up Potion, and had been out the door in less than fifteen minutes. Tomas headed to his surgery to deal with the less urgent care. Both Healer and Doctor did not look to see their flat before midnight.

Padma entered the MICU and was immediately assaulted by the smell of cooked flesh and the sounds of ragged screams, both overlaying the more sterile scents and mechanical sounds of the unit. She shrugged into her lab coat, twisted her hair under a cap and scrubbed in, vying for the limited space around the basins spaced out around the room. Pradesh the Prat was beside her at the sink, his mind-numbing prattle unwelcome in the vigilant state Padma currently tried to sustain with her limited amount of sleep. He leaned close to her, his minty breath touching her neck, wet and uninvited, his white teeth flashing in the corner of her vision. “Hello, darling. Will you be up for dinner after work?”

Padma refrained from a sharp comment as she turned to another physician, a thirty-something doctor with whom Padma had worked before. “How many have been transferred so far?”

“Right now, fifteen: four adults and eleven children. The explosion occurred right after the morning bell rang for class. Two outbuildings were blown up.” The doctor’s response was terse. “You’ll want to cast an Anti-viral Barrier Spell; there’s been an outbreak of Dragon Pox at the school.”

Padma finished cleansing and cast the necessary spells. It was shaping up into a grim day. Two more patients were being Floo’ed in as Padma took her first chart and began directing her team of Healers and mediwitches to the triage area.

&*&*&

Lucius watched the TV as he ate his meagre lunch of soup and an orange, shortly after the noon hour. Lucius finished his orange and sat back in the squeaky chair attempting to ignore the content. The attractive television Muggle announced breaking news. Malfoy surmised it would be another pointless terrorist scare or news of the latest Royal scandal. Bored with the entire situation, Lucius picked up his novel again paying half attention to the show as he wandered further into the novel. The brutal Harkonnen had just set up his rule on the desert planet Arakis and was now under siege by the strange, blue-eyed, worm-worshipping natives. He registered the announcer speaking antiseptically over a scene of destruction and his eyes darted to the screen. He registered figures in wizarding robes emblazoned with the Aurory's and MLE’s insignia working in the rubble of what looked like a school. He set aside the book, but the announcer went to a commercial break. Lucius thought ironically that even tragedy had become a commercial venture. Ian entered at that moment to discuss the remainder of the day’s workload, and Lucius forgot all about the disaster and the Ministry’s involvement.

&*&*&

Padma worked non-stop from a little after eight that morning and at noon, her energy flagged. She groaned as three more children Floo’ed through with the heavily begrimed rescue workers and a bleeding, but conscious, Millicent Bulstrode. That brought the total of the critically injured to thirty-six: five adults and thirty one ten and eleven-year-old children. Padma had lost two patients already, a young teacher and an impossibly small boy, their lungs too damaged to sustain them while the standard Pulmonary Rejuvina Potions took effect. Three more children’s vitals were low, and as Padma rubbed her strained back, the distinctive code-blue alarm, known to physicians and Healers alike, sounded from behind a curtained station.

Padma donned another paper smock and began plodding to the area. The young physician from that morning waved her off. “You need a break. Go grab a quick bite to eat and a nap. I‘ll send one of the mediwitches to wake you.”

She decided to check on the most pressing of her cases before taking his advice. She entered the cubicle of a young Nigerian Muggle-born girl. Her parents sat beside her bed, numbly watching the Muggle medical instruments as they monitored the girl's vitals. The mother held the girl's pinkie-finger, the only part of the girl's arms and hands not swathed in burn bandage and ointments. The father acknowledged Padma's presence with a quick upward glance and then returned to his whispered prayers, his lips moving as he did. Padma looked at the chart to give herself something to do. The girl moaned and her black eyes opened to slits as she mumbled something in a language Padma did not know. The mother answered in the same soft glottals and the girl quieted.

Padma cast a diagnostic spell, thankful for the efforts of the Muggle Liaison Office to condition Muggle-borns’ families to this world. The man interrupted, “What are you doing?"

"I'm seeing how much of her own magic she’s expended to combat the burns,” Padma said absently, worried that the girl's magical core was being depleted at a greater rate than could be combated. The girl might end up a Squib or dead if Padma could not stop the drain. The doctor silently Accio'ed Calming and Sleeping Draughts and administered them before leaving the parents to their vigil.

&*&*&

Lucius entered Gringotts after a less than pleasant trip through Diagon Alley. Even with the recent revelations about his role during the war, the Malfoy name, which had once commanded respect and perhaps a little fear, was diminished. Or, perhaps it was Lucius who was diminished judging by the whispers, stares and outright jeers directed his way. He wore the only wizarding robes he owned, the ones that Mona Lisa purchased for his trial: grey, conservative and cheaply made. It was no matter; once he transferred his funds and was free to move about at will, he would adjourn to Madam Malkin’s to purchase a new wardrobe. The shoddy togs would do for this outing.

A blonde witch with a rather ample décolletage and coltish legs, both features highlighted by her abbreviated robes, ushered Lucius to a richly decorated office He surmised from the witch’s appearance that he would be dealing with a human rather than one of the goblins, which was just as well. Malfoy Manor had been the site of many atrocities against the creatures. Lucius had tried unsuccessfully to reason with the Dark Lord about the use of the goblins to their cause, and received brutal punishment for his interference. He would rather not face their censure at this point in his parole. It could be disastrous to his plans.

A young man entered the office, his shoulder-length, ginger hair slicked back into a truncated queue, his robes a wizarding version of a Muggle business suit. They discussed the matter at hand, and Lucius quickly secured his funds in the family vault. As the meeting concluded, Lucius commanded, "I should like a draft drawn on my account in the amount of two-hundred thousand galleons, and I would like it directed to my sister-in-law's vault, Mrs. Andromeda Black."

"Are you certain, sir?" The man's eyebrows lifted. "Gringotts will be happy do so, but... such a large amount? You are still recovering from your recent incarce... uh…"

Lucius lifted an autocratic brow, “Did I stammer or in any way make myself less than utterly clear?"

"N-No, sir." The young man withdrew a parchment from his desk and wrote the draft with a quick flourish. "Would you like the bank to owl Mrs. Tonks, sir?"

Lucius inclined his head graciously. "That will not be necessary. I wish the gift to remain anonymous."

He exited the room, passed the rather amply endowed secretary, and made his way to the door leading to the exterior, only to be stopped by a familiar goblin. "Mr. Malfoy."

The creature clasped his attenuated fingers loosely over his belly, his face drawn in lines of hauteur. Lucius frowned but recovered quickly as he bowed slightly. "I don't believe I've had the pleasure, Mr...?"

"You are correct, Mr. Malfoy, pleasure had nothing to do with our encounter." The goblin gave an approximation of a laugh. "My name is Griphook, since your memory is faulty. I am surprised you could forget my name with the amount of pain you took trying to protect me."

The goblin's sly eyes winked at Lucius in the dim braziers of the bank. Griphook stepped forward, coming to Malfoy's knee. "Certain interested parties took an interest in the solvency of your vault. You might find your financial situation much less dire than it might have been."

"My financial situation was never dire,” Lucius retorted, thrown by the familiarity of the creature.

"Yes, foreign goblins have heard your story. I'm sure that played a large part in your recovery,” Griphook said and then turned from the wizard. "Good day, Mr. Malfoy. My debt to you is paid."

Lucius bowed fully and swept from the bank, grateful for the creature’s assistance.

&*&*&

Padma lost five patients. They had never really had a chance if she were honest. The young African girl had been the last. She died an hour before Padma’s shift ended. The doctor finished her workday in a numbed state of fatigue. She Floo'ed home and sank to the couch, giving in to the tears that had threatened all day. Her professional barriers were breached and her heart was broken.

She sank into exhausted sleep where she sat on the couch and dreamed of the girl and her parents.

&*&*&

July 10, 2010

Lucius was forced to work the serving line because young Paisley’s replacement did not show up for work that morning. He felt ridiculous with his hair in a net and his hands in sweat-producing, plastic gloves. Horrid Muggle inventions. It would have been so much simpler to cast an Impervious Charm and be done with it, but Ian explained patiently that the health officials who occasionally inspected the shelter might not understand the usefulness of magic in preventing bacterial and viral infections.

Lucius served one of the blue-haired, old ladies that frequented the soup kitchen, the ones that preferred feeding their housefuls of cats to purchasing food for their own consumption. He would never understand the dependence these lonely old women had on furry vermin. They lavished such love on the creatures and when they died, alone in their little flats, the animals ended up devouring their corpse until someone noticed the stench. Some gratitude. Lucius thought he might understand the need for companionship, but he did prefer less fur and more leg and breast.

The previous evening, he had dreamed of the lovely little twit in Gringotts but somehow confused her with Mona Lisa midway through the rather erotic action. He awoke to an embarrassing mess he had not made since his teens. Lucius thought he might have to seek some company in the exclusive bordello he had visited occasionally when he was a bachelor. A Metamorphmagus who hired only those who could learn the skill she possessed ran it. She explained to Lucius that it cut down on her overhead. She could hire fewer professionals while maintaining a well-stocked array of looks for those who had a preference. Thus, any girl Lucius purchased time with would be exactly to his taste, and he would no longer have the disturbing dreams of petal-soft, cinnamon lips on his skin, and round, brown thighs around his waist. He shifted his attention to the next person in line, aware of the painful, throbbing problem he now possessed. He would take himself in hand later.

Later, after the last person was seated, Ian (Lucius did not remember when the man had become less of an object of ridicule to him and more of a friend, but he had) was extolling in his daily sermon the virtues of sobriety and sacrifice while the kitchen staff cleaned. He noticed a female figure entering from the street entrance, and turned slightly to see if he might find one last sandwich to give the waif when he felt a hard slap across his face.

He reeled back, wishing he had his wand, and turned to see Andromeda Tonks' angry countenance. He greeted her cordially, "Andromeda, it has been too long."

"My grandson and I don't need your blood money." She threw a bank draft at him, the parchment fluttering to his feet.

"I haven't any idea of what you are speaking, Mrs. Tonks. Please enlighten me." Lucius lifted a brow in the same autocratic way he had done to the banker the day before. He goaded, "Do hurry, as you can see, I am quite busy."

She drew back her hand and slapped him again, this time drawing blood with her wedding band and engagement ring. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she beat at his shoulders and face, each blow punctuated by the choking sounds of her grief. Lucius stood still, letting her take her time with the abuse. He would not stop her from her punishment. He could have prevented the death of her husband even if her daughter's was beyond his control.

Several inmates of the facility stood to better see his arrogant arse beaten, but none cared to help. Andromeda's wrath continued until Ian dragged her away from Lucius. "Malfoy, go fix your lip in the rectory and put some ice on your jaw or you'll bruise."

Lucius bowed stiffly as he made his exit while Ian held the sobbing form of Andromeda Tonks nee Black. He wondered at his lack of response. Had it been a few years earlier, he would have had no problem destroying her. Now, his heart just wasn't in it.

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