Miss Patil Takes a Holiday

Thanks for all the reviews on the last chapter. I really appreciate your comments.


Miss Patil Takes a Holiday

Chapter 5:

Of House Elves and Plots

Lucius strode through the crowded market, listening to the familiar cadence of buyer and seller. The Greece of his childhood had been replaced by this Euro-nonsense and the wizarding community on the Isle of Delos had been affected adversely. He had thought to capture some sense of purpose as he revisited his father's villa in the Cyclades, but had instead been insulted by the changes to the area. No doubt, both Muggle and wizarding Greece were much better off, but he missed the fire and verve of the past. Economic security had wrought insipidity for the entire nation.

Lucius turned away from the market, and headed toward the Apparation point. He planned to spend two months here, readying the villa for sale, and then move on to other Malfoy holdings. The vineyard in Tuscany would be next, then the Palais in France. Only then could he face the sale of Malfoy Manor, the place of his greatest shame and horror. He hoped Abraxas was spinning in his grave with the thought of the seven-hundred year-old family seat being sold. Lucius decided to settle in Capri. The Roman-era villa there was his mother's and had no Dark memories for him. His father thought the area overrun by Muggles and so never visited it after Mother's death.

Lucius thought of informing his only Muggle friend of his whereabouts, but though Ian was a friend, Malfoy was ashamed of the exigency of his exit from London.

Unbidden, another face from his sojourn in London came to mind, one with almond-shaped eyes and cinnamon-skinned sensuality. Lucius turned his mind from the lovely Doctor Patil, with a great effort of will. She was Draco's age and therefore off limits. He would not lust after a mere girl, even if that girl were almost thirty-years old. He had badly frightened her in their last meeting. He meant to. She was too trusting by far, and too damned young for him. He did not need a romantic encumbrance again. At least not now. He had already been burdened with a wife who hated him. He did not want a fearful young woman in his bed. It would lead to more heartbreak and Lucius really did not have much more heart to spare.

Lucius realised he had stopped in the middle of the street, drawing stares from surrounding shopkeepers and pedestrians alike. He took a trick from Snape's book and stalked to the Apparition point with billowing robes and resplendent scowl, all to disguise to him how much he wanted his untouchable doctor.

&*&*&

Padma's Port Key had taken her to a small hostel on the outskirts of the only wizarding village in Greece. It was appropriate that she started her journey at the birthplace of Apollo, sun god, and patron of the medical arts. She would spend some time at the ancient Muggle sites to be sure, but she would also go to the new temple of Apollo, built in the early part of the twentieth century after a devastating earthquake destroyed the original. That temple had been occupied since the birth of the greatest Greek Wizard, some three thousand years ago: Apollo Asclepius, Healer and teacher.

Padma let the bell-elf take her bags to her room. It was still early afternoon, and most businesses were still closed, but Padma could do without the bustle and hurry of the markets while she gathered her wits. Port Key was her least favourite way of travel because it always made her slightly nauseous. She strolled the quiet back streets, admiring the architecture of the area along with the brightly painted surfaces. Somehow, it reminded her of the summer holiday she had spent in Iran between the year she finished Muggle uni, and the start of her one year Healing apprenticeship that was also concurrent with her medical internship. That was also the season her sister had begun her affair with Justin. It hurt more that it had taken years for Padma to discover their perfidy.

Padma had loved Justin, in the way one is fond of their first lover. The pain of his betrayal had been less while Lucius Malfoy was there to make her feel attractive and wanted, but the loss of the elder Malfoy's attention had sent her, once again into the mild depression that had plagued her ever since the end of her first affair. Padma moved her mind away from the pain of the thought, as she entered the now bustling market. She was here to enjoy herself, not relive her past.

She window shopped, but found nothing she could not do without. Once she thought she saw a strange house elf following her, but when she looked at the spot she had seen it last, it had disappeared. Padma finally settled on buying a sheer Egyptian cotton Robe set with a matching cloak. It would be a perfect gift for Maa. She found a book, in Latin, on Potions for Bapa, and settled on a set of cuff links for Tomas. She would purchase something for the baby later. Parvati and Justin would receive one of the touristy things from the kiosk at the Port Key area.

Once done with her obligatory gifts, she turned back toward the hostel suddenly weary.

&*&*&

Lucius entered the now gutted library of the villa, remembering his most satisfying moment in the room.

His father had hired a maid for the summer, a local girl who was Lucius' age. Her name was Katya. His father used the girl at night, while denying his seventeen-year-old son the same outlet. Lucius had spent his evenings listening to his father fuck the girl. Her breathless cries of pleasure had inflamed him beyond madness. Lucius had spent the first month of that particular holiday in a haze of lust so strong that even his own ministrations had failed to ease his discomfort.

Then, on a day that his father had been called back to London to take care of some urgent Ministry business, Katya had discovered Lucius in that very library, wanking off yet again. She had taken his virginity on the spot and given Lucius the education his father would never allow. He had been grateful and half in love with her that afternoon. That was, until his father came home and paid her for her services to his son. Lucius had used her again, but never with the same care or feeling. His illusions had been shattered. Abraxas Malfoy, it seemed, owned him body and soul.

With a wave of his wand, Lucius covered the ancient mosaic floors with tarps and stripped to his bare chest. He had found he enjoyed the slapping of paint on surfaces. It was no artistic endeavour for him, to be sure, but after spending six months serving in Ian's kitchens, he missed the sheer mindless physicality of Muggle labour. Painting gave him an outlet for his energy that magic never would.

While he painted, he practiced his speech, still slightly altered after his stroke over nine months ago. He made the nonsense sounds Mona Lisa had taught him, moving his lips in the exaggerated way she showed him. He could feel his facial muscles beginning to work properly the more he did them. He moved to elocution next, practicing the words on which his tongue still stumbled, ironically mostly ones beginning with the letter S. He had spent years as a servant of the Dark Lord, a man equally yet oppositely challenged by the same letter. However, Lucius' sound came out a truncated asperative and the Dark Lord's had been an extended susurrus.

Lucius spent the rest of the afternoon in quiet practice saying words in a nonsense string, over and over. He felt foolish and was glad he had sent Dibby to the market for his evening repast of cheese, pita and wine. The elf was too observant for Lucius' tastes.

&*&*&

Padma ate her dinner alone in her room not willing to suffer the company of other humans in the mental state in which she found herself. She picked up a novel; one Tomas had recommended but found the romantic nature of the story too much to bear. She wished she had taken her flatmate up on his offer to take holiday with her. At least they could have shopped and dished about the other tourists like two girls. As it was, Padma was looking at long, boring days on the rock beach and long hot nights under the squeaking ceiling fan of her room. She had chosen Delos in the wrong season. The summer tourists from the States had already gone back to resume their jobs or schooling. The Northern European tourists would not be here until Yule, and even the ever-present Japanese sightseers with their guided tours and incessant snap taking were away.

Padma sighed, willing anyone to be on the island beside the contemptuous locals and the odd Muggle. She closed the book with a snap. It would do her no good to sit in her room and moon about what she wanted. She would just make her own fun. She was in Greece after all, land of yearlong street festivals and all night discoth¨¨ques if she could not find a dance partner, she could always dance by herself if she drank enough ouzo. With that resolved, she slipped into her best green, knit shell, a matching pair of Capri's, embroidered at the hem and up one side, and her gold sandals. She considered her hair, which at the moment fell in raven-black waves down to her hips. She decided to leave it, but put small bits of rhinestone hair jewellery in it to catch the light in winking glints. Next, she applied the soft-carmine lip-rouge she preferred and added just a hint of colour to her cheeks. Kohl came last to her slanting, almond-shaped eyes. Once done, Padma Shrank her room key and her wallet and put it in her pocket before exiting the room for the nightlife she knew must await her.

Fuck all if she was not going to pick up a man tonight and shag Lucius Malfoy out of her system.

&*&*&

Lucius relaxed on the patio adjacent to the master suite of the villa. His father had been the last occupant of the room, and his presence hung like a dour painting in the air. Lucius, upon his arrival, had stripped the room of all the memories of his father. Down came the heavy tapestries of bloody stag hunts. Portraits of long-dead ancestors were relegated to the attic and his father's desk, the sight of many of Lucius' most painful punishments, was sold to a second-hand shop after Lucius removed the wards and traps Abraxas Malfoy had placed on it. His father was very thorough, and that particular job had taken two days. Lucius found an antique dealer to haul away the rest of the furniture in the house. He was glad to be rid of the heavy, ornately carved headboard. Lucius had been strapped at the side of that bed many times and for many offences. The idea of sleeping in the presence of that particular furniture daunted him.

He bought a small, modern futon that served as both bed and divan and slept well on it. He did not plan to refurnish the villa before he sold it.

Lucius had painted the room a soft white. It had taken two coats to cover the steely grey his father had preferred. He replaced the heavy wooden shutters with light, Roman shades and slept with the windows open to the night-sea air. Dibby was responsible for the major structural repairs to the rotting wooden floor in the kitchens and the entryway, but Lucius had hired a Magetecht to refurbish the ancient mosaic floors and strengthen the equally ancient walls.

He stirred from his thoughts when he heard the heavy beat of the local discoth¨¨que¡¯s house music begin. A quick Tempus charm told Lucius it was eleven, just the start of the evening for young people. He remembered taking Snape to his first nightclub. The younger boy had been diffident and cool which drove the local girls wild with the desire to crack his aloof shell. The idiot did not even know he held appeal for the opposite sex and had spent the evening scribbling ideas for potions on the paper serviettes of the club. Lucius chuckled softly. He hoped Snape had finally gotten over the Mudblood. He deserved so much more than what he had ever given himself.

Dibby entered the area, bowing as he always did. Lucius wished again that the Weasley chit had taken the elf off his hands. Lucius really could not abide the creatures, even though this one seemed a little better than most. "What is it, Dibby?"

"Master," the elf began, wringing his hands and casting mournful glances at the wizard. "Dibby has heard there is an important pureblood party at the nightsong spot. Master should go. There will be gains to be had by Master."

Lucius did not trust the sly creature, but knew if he were going to reclaim the Malfoy status he would need to be seen. "Very well. Prepare my bath and lay out my blue robes. Not the velvet. It's too hot, the linen."

Lucius downed his fourth glass of whisky for the evening, and started on a fifth. If he had to endure the company of other humans, he may as well have a nice buzz while doing it. Maybe he would get lucky and shag himself senseless without having to imagine Mona Lisa while he did it.

&*&*&

Padma slammed back her third ouzo of the evening. A German wizard on an archaeological dig in conjunction with a Muggle one for the al-g¨¡maaʿa al-alm¨¡niyya bil-Q¨¡hira, or less pretentiously, the German University in Cairo. Padma was tipsy enough to find the hacking and spitting of both languages highly amusing. She was not tipsy enough to find it attractive that he now was whispering guttural Arabic endearments in her ear. Her hair was becoming wet with his efforts to seduce her. A young Greek boy, all of fifteen, took her by her hand and whisked her onto the dance floor.

They gyrated to the rhythm until Padma became dizzy. The boy with his glowing skin and dark eyes laughed and pulled her against him, clutching her closely to his hard body. Padma fitted into his arms well. If he weren't so young... She broke away. Paedophilia was not her style.

Another wizard, tall and broad, slipped behind her. His pale hand held a glass of Firewhisky, not what the German would choose to drink. Padma took the tumbler laughingly from his hand and downed it. He pinned her to him with his large, golden-haired arms and ordered another. The boy, now pouting prettily, turned to another girl on the dance floor and Padma began a slow, hip twitching dance with her new partner. He nuzzled her neck, an effort for him since she was obviously so much shorter than he was. She leaned into his broad shoulders, her hair tickling his throat and lips. He continued his assault as the drinks appeared. Padma downed it, now drunk to the point of seeing double.

The man hefted her against him, his face in shadow as he Disapparated them away from the loudness and the lights.

&*&*&

She remembered his hands on her breasts, his mouth hot on her labia and clit as it delved further into her. She remembered squirming wildly as he induced her to orgasm with his talented mouth and twitching fingers. She remembered the clean and musky taste of his cock as she swallowed him greedily and then the wrenching sensation of his withdrawal as he drunkenly clambered over her body, his skin moon and shadow, a silver sheet of hair cascading over her body as he entered her. His thrusts were masterful and climax inducing. She remembered falling asleep in a haze of pleasure so sweet that it filled the aching void that the loss of Lucius Malfoy's diffident attention had made. She remembered all that, but not his face. She awoke drunkenly when the man's arm gathered her closer in his sleep, his fingers twitching reflexively over her breast, his cock semi-erect. She fell asleep again, too drunk to move under her own power and see the mystery man. She would look at him tomorrow morning.

&*&*&

Dibby knew what it took to be a good house elf. Loyalty was first. Dibby possessed that. Then came cunning. With a Master like Master Malfoy, Dibby knew he had learned it.

He reclined in his nest of tea towels and cast of linens behind the ancient wood burning furnaces of the caldarium. Master had finally found Mistress Doctor Patil and they were doing the wizardy thing to make them bond. Dibby hoped for more, but was happy with the night's work. Master had been sad without his old Mistress. She had not been nice to Dibby, but she made Master happy and that was what counted. When he saw Mistress Doctor Patil, she had been kind to Dibby and happy/sad about Master. House elf magic let Dibby know where Mistress Doctor would be, and house elf magic had made Master go to Delos before he sold the villa.

Dibby heard the creaking of the futon as Master made Mistress Doctor happy and Mistress Doctor did the same for him.

Dibby hated lying to Master, but it had not been a outright lie. Mistress Doctor was important to Master, even if he did not acknowledge it.

Dibby decided to write the castrated Muggle, the one who served the Bloody Gods to see what else needed to be done to make Mistress Doctor and Master see what Dibby could so clearly. Dibby wasn't so good with writing, but he would manage if it meant having a family with children to serve again.

Dibby closed his eyes and dreamt of serving little Masters and Mistresses with dark hair and grey eyes, his feet run ragged by their demands. It was the best dream Dibby had had in twelve years.


Thanks for reading, Lucius respectfully requests a comment on his performance. We must not displease Lucius, so please review.