Miss Patil Takes a Holiday

Oh, I am sorry, I forgot I hadn't uploaded chapter 5 when I went to upload six. So, tonight, you have two chappies to read.

And, before I get a lot of OOC alerts from my readers, my Lucius was married fairly young and missed the sexual revolution of the seventies because of this, he was also constrained from indulging in extra-marital relations by the Fidelity Vow of his marriage and before the vow, by his father. That being said, he may not be innocent, but he is quite naive about modern relationships. Please read the chapter with that in mind.



Miss Patil Takes a Holiday

Chapter 6: Hugh Hefner's New Guide to Etiquette and Modern Manners*

Lucius rolled to the side of the bed, away from the body he currently had shared it with. He didn't remember much of the evening or how the dark-skinned nude woman who currently had her head underneath a pillow wound up shagging him at his villa. Not that he was particularly upset about her presence from what he could see of her body, which was at the moment, a shapely leg, a delectably rounded belly and rather fulsome, brown-nippled breasts. He felt almost as if he had been Confunded, though. His memory of the evening was vague and slightly cloudy after he entered the club. He vowed solemnly that he would drink less from now on.

He knew, from the erotic periodicals that he had acquired from the helpful junkie at the shelter that it just was not done to bring a woman to one's flat if one were engaged in a one night stand, (in which Lucius was fairly sure he had engaged the previous evening.) The former husband of Narcissa Malfoy would not know from practice, as this was a singular experience for him. He was a stickler for social protocol and so he would follow the rules he read only months before. He wondered if things were different, if they were in some way connected, if she might consent to stay for breakfast. The periodical he read said that it was de rigueur for the parties involved in this type of social interaction to part amicably and too hastily for his tastes. He did miss a long morning shag followed by a longer afternoon one. Narcissa had not always been up for it, but perhaps this chit might be. He just did not want this experience to be a one off, since he could remember so little of the initial round of action. If he were honest, however, he could admit that he was growing tired of his own rather limited company.

He thought things had gone well sexually, but was not sure. Narcissa had been his last sexual partner and that had been six months ago. He hoped he had not gone off half-cocked, so to speak. Perhaps the alcohol had taken care of that particular worry. It did tend to retard reactions to certain physical stimuli.

He stretched, feeling the pull in his groin and leg muscles as his head pounded from the sudden movement. As if on cue, Dibby padded into the room and gave him a Hangover Cure. Lucius drank it down, sighing in relief as the gnawing pain behind his eyes and the ever so slight nausea diminished immediately. He indicated in a hushed voice that the creature was to give the same potion to his paramour once she awoke. Dibby bowed in that servile manner that Lucius so despised these days and retreated, a strange smile on his grey face. The lord of the manor narrowed his eyes but said nothing to the sly servant. He simply could not abide the creatures.

Lucius smacked his mouth, grimacing at the taste of the film over his teeth. Even he could smell his breath. A quick assessment of the rest of his personal hygiene left him less than impressed. He smelled of sweat, sex and a light floral perfume that niggled at his memory. It was a scent he had come across before, a flowery odour with a hint of cinnamon. Not a common fragrance, but certainly not one of the expensive creations that Narcissa went to Paris to fetch, at great cost he might add. He decided the fragrance was appealing but he really needed a long soak in the caldarium to wash off the less than pleasant odours emanating from his person.

Lucius padded to the bathroom and began his morning ablutions, unaware of the eyes that followed his progress happily, as he did so.

&*&*&

Padma woke to the alarmingly close face of a wizened house elf. She groaned, as it seemed like a knife lanced through her head and lodged somewhere behind her eyeballs. She did not remember calling for room service.

"Master wants you to have this Hangover Cure." The elf handed her a phial, saying with a sly wink, "Drink, Mistress Doctor Patil."

Bloody hell.

She had heard that phrase only a fortnight before as she juddered from fear in the flat owned by Lucius-Sodding-Malfoy. Padma looked blearily around the room glad that she had worn her contacts last night. The walls were white, not papered. Stucco not plaster and lath. Light and airy, not institutional and bland.

Shite.

She remembered hands and a mouth and crying out with an invasion of moon pale skin to a figure with platinum hair, silver eyes and the face of a fallen angel...

Fuckohfuckohfuckohfuck.

She thought dryly over her rising panic, Yes, that seems to be what you did with him. Padma took the phial with shaking hands and downed it with a swift jerk of her head. Once she felt almost human, she asked conversationally, "What is your Master's name?"

The door to what Padma assumed was a bathroom opened and she scrambled to pull the not so pristine white sheet around her nude body somewhat stupidly, given what she remembered of last night. Lucius Malfoy's sardonic voice said from the entryway, "My name is Lucius Malfoy, Mona Lisa; I hope I am not that forgettable."

Padma wanted to run screaming from the room but realised she was still quite bare. She then decided she wanted to slap his smirking face. Overlaying both reactions was the desire to get him back in bed and let him shag her to insensibility. She opted for the most socially acceptable thing to do, given the state of their relationship. "Hullo."

Then Lucius Malfoy, Death Eater, pureblood elitist and friend to Ministers of Magic did something that caught her entirely off guard. He blushed. Prettily, the bastard. "Your... ah, sheet... is..."

Padma followed his steel gaze only to see that, while the top portion of her body was adequately covered, the sheet had risen while she moved to reach for the potion leaving a good amount of her mons veneris exposed for all the world to see. That the world at the moment consisted of Lucius-Bloody-Malfoy was more embarrassing than the time she had been thrown into the Lake at Hogwarts. She had run out of bras that fateful morning and the rest was Ravenclaw history as the true state of her lack was exposed to the entire school once she rose from the water with a transparent blouse. Padma pulled the sheet down, heat creeping up her neck as she retorted, "I seem to remember you examining that portion of my anatomy quite well last night. I hope it didn't embarrass you then."

Malfoy gave her a narrow-eyed look and with a jerk of his head said, "The en suite is yours, if you'd care to freshen up before you leave."

He strolled out of the bathing area, and dropped the towel, his back to her. Gods the man was delectable. Even with the silver scars that criss-crossed his buttocks and thighs, his arse was magnificent. Padma's mouth went desert dry as he yanked on his plain, white y-fronts and adjusted himself with his back to her. She would have figured him for more the silk boxer type. As he donned worn Muggle jeans, he slanted an unreadable look at her over his shoulder. She jerked as she heard the zip pulled up, the muscles in his back bunching nicely with the motion. Just as he reached into the armoire for a shirt, it struck her what he just said. "Wait, you want me to leave... We shag and... then... You... Just... Dismiss... Me?"

Padma felt tears spring into her eyes as she hastily grabbed her clothes, jerking them on while still trying to clutch the sheet to her body. She should have known that... Death Eater was just getting a leg over.

Isn't that what you were doing? If it hadn't been your crush, wouldn't you be trying to get out as fast as possible? Hypocrite, much? Padma's inner voice asked sardonically. She said as she slammed out of the room onto the balcony, "Shut up!"

Padma Disapparated from the balcony just as Malfoy reached for her, his expression confused and bleak. Bastard, he was probably as good an actor as Snape had been. Never trust a spy. Or a Death Eater. Or a Death Eater turned spy.

As the gloom of her hostel room closed about her Padma gathered clean clothes to change into once she washed the night's activities from her body in the bathroom down the hall. Hopefully there wouldn't be a line. Her mind was blank except for the mantra that had begun after Justin and Parvati married.

Never have hope that anything will change in your life... It never will... Never have hope... It never will change...

When she returned, Padma warded her room with several that she had learned from Seamus Finnegan during her stay in London after her attack. That should do to keep the smirking Malfoy out. Not that he would want anything to do with her now that he'd had her.

Never have hope...

She groaned and fell onto the hard bed, willing her mind to shut off.

Never hope...

&*&*&


Lucius' first reaction to the chit's exit was ire, followed closely by regret, remorse and embarrassment. As well it should be for the way Lucius had handled Mona Lisa. Why had he thought a periodical designed for use with one of the baser male instincts had been an appropriate venue for etiquette lessons even if the lessons were on sexual relations?

Well, you bollixed that up, old man. Lucius could almost hear Severus' dry tones tell him, he could almost see that little superior sneer on the half-blood's face. As if the dark man would have given two shakes of a wand if the witch were angry or not. He most likely would have had Lucius laughing at his dry assessment of what a fool Malfoy had been. Gods, he missed him.

Lucius felt old-- from the tip of his now grey head to the sagging skin on his still-toned stomach to his thickening toenails. What young woman wanted a man with talons on his toes and hair beginning to grow in strange spots like his ears, for instance? What was he thinking going to a discothèque anyway? He was a grandfather. Not that being a grandfather as a wizard would make him old, but the girl he had taken home was his son's age. If he did not stop himself, he might look as foolish as Narcissa with her well-kept, boy lovers.

"Dibby!" Lucius bellowed, most disturbed by the events of the last moments. He had never been told to shut up as if he were a child. He took a breath to yell again, his ire rising at the creature by the second, when the elf popped into Lucius' presence.

"Master called?" The house elf bowed, but without any of the subservience Lucius had hated before. The elf's ears were back against his body, not drooping, as they normally would be. The creature was... miffed?

Lucius suddenly suspected the house elf knew more about last evening's events than he would ever tell. "Purchase a bouquet of a dozen... No, two dozen white tulips and send them to the Doctor's place of residence."

"Perhaps Master should write sorry words for his bad acts." The elf's statement was almost accusatory. Lucius levelled a soft blow with the flat of his hand to the creature's head, really more of a tap for his cheekiness than for the uncharacteristic show of emotion. Lucius was intrigued when the creature made no offer to iron his tongue or other such nonsense. The fact that he had not was an improvement in Lucius' mind.

The elf presented his master with a freshly cut quill as if to press the matter. Lucius lifted a brow, as if asking the creature to explain its bizarre behaviour before he Accio'ed the thin vellum he preferred for his missives and wrote a short apology.

The elf took the note with a stiff bow, and with a sharp crack! he was gone.

Lucius decided he would finish his work on the villa, estimating he had at least a fortnight's worth, and remove himself from Mona Lisa's presence entirely. Perhaps he would go to Outer Mongolia. Surely, she would not suddenly decide to holiday there.

&*&*&

Dibby returned to the kitchen to put away the love-foods he had started preparing. They would last another day. He placed the beluga caviar and oysters back in the chill cabinet, along with the eggs broken for the omelette, and the milk for the bread. The fennel seed and almonds could stay as they were, in the dry cabinet. Dibby would ensure they were used.

Dibby had his work cut out for him if Master and Mistress Doctor Patil were to make little Masters and Mistresses for him. He cursed the Muggle that made those self-bonding dirty books. Dibby was almost mad enough at Master to neglect his daily dusting.

Had Master lost his mind when he lived with the castrated Muggle? If old, old Master were here... Dibby shivered. If old, old Master were here, Master Lucius would be dead. Old, old Master would have made sure Master Lucius did not change his stripes and betray the Rotten Lord half-blood. Old, old Master would have killed Master for his leniency with young Master Draco and his Muggle wife. Dibby did not know the Muggle wife, but he had heard from house elves at Hogwarts that she fought with Master Draco and Snake-killer Longbottom to free a useless fairy. Young Master Draco's wife was said to be very tragic and kind by all the Hogwarts house elves. Dibby thought when he did see her, he might approve of a wizard bonding with that Muggle. Old, old Master never would have allowed it.

Poor Master Lucius. Old, old Master had been very evil to him with his beatings, his bad-making words, and his coldnesses. Old, old Master had made Master Lucius take the Rotten Lord half-blood's mark. Old, old Master had made Master Lucius cry even when he was a man, with his beatings and his nasty tongue. Dibby thought Master Lucius deserved to be happy with Mistress Doctor Patil. She was a good witch who felt more for Master Lucius than even she knew.

Dibby read the note to Mistress Doctor Patil carefully, because human-squiggly words were not the way a proper house elf wrote. House elves communicated with runes and old power words. He read the squiggle-words and knew they were not right. Dibby would take the note to Wise Mother house elf who served Lady Aphrodite's priestesses. Wise Mother house elf would make the note right, and Dibby would soon have Master and Mistress Doctor back to wizardy bonding.

&*&*&

Padma had discovered the gift as she stepped out of the bathroom after her shower. The flowers, three dozen white tulips with sprays of jasmine and lavender and a sincere note of apology made her pause. The language was stilted, almost Victorian in its propriety, but Padma could sense the sincerity in the words.

She tucked the note into her skirt and picked up the tulips. She liked the way they looked, waxy and almost unreal and the heady odour was heavenly. The bouquet was nothing like the ones Panjit sent, so she kept a dozen tulips and all of the jasmine and lavender and sent the rest via bell-elf to the Temple of Apollo. It would be her first offering to the gods of the isle.

It was now four days later and she was now the recipient of a Hermes scarf, a set of antique bangles in twenty-four carat gold and a pair of diamond earrings. She would return them to Malfoy as soon as she could think about him without wanting to Hex, Jinx or otherwise Curse him.

She ordered lunch in and read more of the book Tomas recommended. Once she was past the first chapter, the vampire story drew her. Of course, it was a little painful when she read about how much the vampire doubted his ability to love a woman so much younger than he was. Padma paused angrily huffing as she berated the vampire mentally. Stupid git. A holiday fling did not mean she, meaning the heroine of course, wanted a relationship. It did mean, however that the vampire could have at least given her breakfast and the option to share his bed... erm.. coffin once more. Or twice, maybe three times if his advanced age and pureblood... erm... vampire blood would allow it.

Git. She couldn't even read a book without Lucius-Bloody-Malfoy invading it. Padma decided since it was her holiday, she would go to the beach. She donned her bikini, the one that she could not get wet, according to the label. Sod it, if she wanted to soak in the Aegean, she would, let the thing shrink or bleed or whatever it would do when it got wet.

Padma set up her beach supplies, Muggle sunscreen so she would not get too black, a fluffy towel from the hostel, and her book, as depressing as it was. She found a seat not too far from the hostel but far enough away to avoid the other groups of late-coming holiday goers. Padma ordered a drink, non-alcoholic, and proceeded to get back into the world of the depressingly Malfoy-like vampire.

&*&*&

Four days after his horrible blunder with the lovely doctor, Lucius was frustrated beyond measure with the inefficiency of the entire Greek nation, EU or no EU. His Magetecht had gone on holiday to Austria and would not be back for a fortnight. The marble tiles he had ordered from Italy were now at the bottom of the Mediterranean, and the paint he had special ordered for the kitchen was a putrid shade of puce rather than the Tuscan gold he had ordered. It was the last of the paint in the store and the clerk had apologetically claimed there would be no more until the shipment came next week. Lucius had resisted the urge to hex the young girl who imparted this news, even as he offered a large sum of Galleons to the manager of the store to expedite the delivery. The manager had declined with a sad look at the bag which Lucius extended, indicating that no amount of recompense would make the ship that carried the supplies faster.

He returned to the villa in high dudgeon and ordered Dibby to prepare his bath. The elf bowed and wrung its hands. "Master, Dibby is sorry, but the water in the villa is off. Dibby has called a wizard's helper to fix it, but he says the pipes is broken and not being able to be fixed until next week."

"Damn and blast!" Lucius said as he kicked a broken tile across the room. "Dibby make arrangements for me to stay at the Grand this evening. We shall be leaving Greece shortly."

&*&*&

Padma was surprised to see a small, round-bellied man approaching her on the beach. As he drew closer, she recognised him as the manager of the hostel. He mopped his brow as he approached with an over-large handkerchief. Padma marked her place in the book with her finger and raised her head politely. "Is there a problem?"

The man mournfully began reciting his list of woes with thickly accented English. Padma caught about half of what he was saying before she understood that the hostel was being closed until further notice. "We will, of course pay for your stay at the Grand for the rest of your holiday. However, since you are only one of two guests, we must close to fix the problems before the inspector returns. The water has gone out and the workman says it will take at least a month to fix it."

Or that is what she thought he said. He continued effusively, "We will lend you a bell-elf to get your things to the Grand. They have a suite for you."

Another mournful bout of hand wringing and brow mopping occurred before Padma could assure the poor man that his arrangements were sufficient. "Thank you, really."

&*&*&

Lucius retired to his suite after another frustrating experience in the New Greece. The Port Key off this damnable island was booked solid for the next fortnight. How, in Merlin's name, was that possible? Lucius considered then discarded the idea of making his own. Greek authorities frowned on the practice more than the Ministry did. The offence in this country was punished with prison, an experience Lucius preferred to avoid. He did not want a world tour of wizarding prisons, no matter how inconvenienced he was by the situation.

He sat on the bed, feeling useless. Perhaps he would adjourn to the bar... no, the dining room. He had sworn off drinking earlier in the week and he would stick to that. He had wine only now, and with meals not any other time. He supposed he would dress for dinner, as it was the Grand and not that little hovel by the market.

&*&*&

Padma entered the dining room, dressed in her second-best salwar kameez. The tunic was pale-gold silk with embroidered and beaded detailing around the front placket. The loose trousers were a complimentary soft-brown silk and the heavily embroidered wrap faded from one colour to the next. The tones showed Padma's colouring to advantage. As she entered the room, she turned several male heads. The hostess seated her at a table in the middle of the room and she self-consciously took the seat.

She suffered through each course and turned aside several beverages when a familiar face appeared at her table.

"Dr. Patil, fancy you being here."

It was Panjit the prat who dragged the seat out opposite her and took it in his presumptuous way, and just entering the room was a familiar blond-haired git.

Padma groaned through a haze of frustration and embarrassment. It always happened to her. What had she done to merit this in her last life? As Tomas would say with his mincing tones and sharp nails flailing through the air in a parody of feminine glee, Fabulous, darling, just fabulous! Now you’ve got two men to fight over you!

&*&*&

*The title is a play on: Debrett's New Guide to Etiquette and Modern Manners, John Morgan, 1996, 1999. A guide to etiquette in British society.

Salwar Kameez: the outfit I have described can be found on Kaneesha dot com. Type in the search salwar kameez and you will see a gold and brown outfit about half of the page down.