Miss Patil Takes a Holiday

Thanks to Jillian, LaBibliographe and vic for your reviews on the last chapter. If you want recieve update notification on this story, please email me at: 1slytheringirl@gmail.com


Chapter 7

Seduction Through the Art of Suffering

Padma did not know how it had happened; one moment she had been fighting off the humiliating attentions of Panjit the Prat and the next, Lucius Malfoy loomed large over her, his gaze proprietary. Now she sat at a table sandwiched between two men who were acting more like dogs fighting over a bone. All she knew was that she was extremely uncomfortable between the two as they verbally feinted and jabbed at one another.

"So, Mr... Ah, Prudish is it?" Lucius said with a quirk of his brow as Padma suppressed a sigh.

"It's Healer Pradesh, Mr. Malfoy...Forgive me if I'm wrong, my French is a little rusty, but doesn't mal foi mean 'bad faith?" Panjit countered. "I seem to remember you in some context. What could it be? Weren't you featured quite prominently in a Death Eater trial recently?"

"Why yes. But I don't enjoy speaking of my own heroism during that horrible war." Lucius' small smile told all within sight that he lied and quite adequately.

"Your modesty is truly admirable, I suppose." The Healer tapped his shapely lips with a manicured forefinger as if in thought about the matter. "Now, what was it you were going to ask?"

Lucius gave a frosty smile as his hand snaked over the back of Padma's chair, his thumb rubbing against her exposed neck. Pradesh countered with a hand to her knee, which she promptly slapped. Malfoy addressed her, "My dear, is an insect bothering you? Shall I squash it for you?"

Panjit placed his reddened hand on top of the table, shooting Padma a reproachful look before inclining his head to Malfoy. "Perhaps the presence of unsavoury elements is bothering her."

Lucius ran a long finger up her neck and into her hair. "Perhaps. Now tell me what brings you to Greece? Or is the stalking of young women your normal behaviour?"

Panjit the Prat's nostrils flared. "As I stated to Padma, her mother was rather unsettled by her daughter's attack and subsequent abduction by a former Death Eater and she asked me to keep her safe whist she was in Greece. It is what one does for one's intended."

"Intended..." Lucius gave an apologetic look to Padma, whose head was beginning to throb along with other parts of her body as Malfoy's long, blunt fingers worked magic on her heated skin. "Victim?"

Padma jerked away from Malfoy's grasp and stood her face heating as she drew looks of consternation and prurient interest from the surrounding patrons of the establishment. "I've had enough from both of you. You, Panjit, are not my intended anything. Do you understand that? My parents do not believe in arranged marriages, and even if they did, I don't. I will not date you. I will not sleep with you. I will not marry you. "

...I do not like Panjit the Prat, I do not like him Sam I am. The thought flitted through her mind and she suppressed a hysterical bubble of laughter.

Lucius sat back in his seat his superior smirk faltering as she turned to him. "And you... Do you think a few expensive baubles can forgive your boorish behaviour after we...? Well, it doesn't. It just makes it worse, as if you think I could be bought off like a-- a cheap whore."

Padma levelled a cool look at both men before turning from them, head held high as she marched resolutely from the dining room, very conscious of the shocked expressions of the other diners at her outburst. She could almost hear Tomas in her head as she passed the maitre de's podium, 'You told them, now don't let them decide who the best man for you is.'

&*&*&

It was Saturday night, and Tomas sat in front of the TV, a bowl of popcorn in his lap. He shifted uncomfortably as he contemplated why he was alone on a Saturday night and not shagging some hot boy that caught his eye at the club. He shuddered as he realized he was even thinking of going to church tomorrow. Not that he would give confession, but well, he might be there; Seamus Finnegan, the object of Tomas' obsession since before Padma had left on holiday.

Tomas covered his eyes willing the image of the Auror that had guarded them in the days before Padma's departure, away. The Goan normally did not like Irishmen-- they were too loud, clownish it their sad way, and well, Irish-- but something about Seamus had captured his all-too-ready imagination. Perhaps it was his almost grey eyes, or the tousled sandy-brown hair or his jug-eared innocence... Tomas gave himself a mental shake and switched off the TV. Perhaps music might be a distraction. He found an oldies Muggle station on the wireless, one that was known for its sappy love-songs. The Beatle's sappiest love-song rang out over the tinny-sounding wireless, '...Love, love me do. You know I love you..."

Suddenly images of Finnegan in his Auror's robes, his expression thoughtful, sincere and innocent flooded Tomas' brain, leaving him with a feeling he thought he had expunged long ago from his emotional repertoire. Gods, Tomas realised with a start, I have a crush on a heterosexual man, again.

Again.

He thought he had learned his lesson the first painful time. His first serious crush had been in high school. He had gone to the Thomas Jefferson School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in the states because his father was from there and wanted him to attend his alma mater. Tomas had found himself the odd-man out with his English accent, dark skin, and two years of Hogwarts educaton which put him well ahead of the curve. Only one boy had deigned to speak to him, he was a year older than Tomas and Captain of the Quidditch team. Tomas worshipped the ground the older boy walked upon, revelled in the boy's attentions and dreamed of their first kiss. It had been a crushing blow to see that same boy necking with a girl later in the year. Tomas had spent the entire end of term battling jealousy and repugnance when he thought of him with her. The older boy's friendship had continued until Tomas finally revealed his feelings for him in a drunken confession in eleventh grade. That conversation had not gone well at all, and after, Tomas spent two lonely years as an outcast. He had sworn then and there to never fall for an inappropriate man again.

Tomas felt the tears of frustration behind his eyelids. Dammit. He had promised himself that he would never make the same mistake and here he was, stuck on a couch in his living room on a Saturday night, alone and pining for a man that he could never have. History had an odd way of repeating itself in a very ugly way and with definite drag queen vamping and histrionics.

Perhaps Mass was a good idea. At least there would be other people there as desperate as he was.

&*&*&

Lucius was at a loss. Narcissa had always welcomed flowers as apology for any crass behaviour on his part, and there had definitely been crass behaviour from both of parties over the years. He excused himself to the gaping-jawed, smarmy git and followed his Mona Lisa through the lobby to the lifts. She stiffened as she sensed his presence behind her. He sketched a shaking bow as he drew abreast of her. "My abject apologies are offered, Doctor, for my boorish behaviour after our memorable experience... and for this evening."

Mona Lisa shot him a dark look of disdain. "I was under impression you didn't remember much of that night... I know I di..."

She cut off the thought as the doors to the lift opened before them. Lucius followed her into the conveyance. She sighed gustily, stirring the baby-fine fringe of black hair around her face. She pushed the button for the sixth floor as Lucius reached for the same button. She pulled back as if stung as he grazed her fingers with his. He felt the same sickened smile affix on his face as the one he had used in the last year of the Dark Lord's reign. The expression of emotion and nattering on about them had never been Lucius' forte. He was not even sure whether the girl...no, woman before him wanted any declarations from him after his rather glaring faux pas.

He opened his mouth to enquire about her state of mind when she asked, "May I just ask you one question?"

The lift jerked to a halt and the doors opened onto the rather blandly decorated hallway. Lucius proffered his arm. "Please, let us take this to a more private venue. My suite, perhaps?"

Padma nodded mutely but did not take his outstretched arm. The silence between the two was nearly deafening as they walked down the hall. Lucius was reminded of his long dreadful walks down a less decorously appointed hall in Azkaban as the same type of dread and humiliation filled his breast. He unwarded his door and opened it for her. He narrowed his eyes as he saw the scene that his entirely too presumptuous house elf had created. The Floo was lit with a cheery fire; candles dotted almost every flat surface, creating a soft, romantic glow. Sprigs of aromatic flowers lay around the room and rose petals had been placed in a meandering trail to the doors of the bedroom. Lucius scrambled to Vanish the rose petals as Mona Lisa turned on him in outrage.

"You... pig!" Her voice was barely above a whisper, but Lucius felt as if he had been slapped. "You knew I was here and you expected a repeat of my drunken mistake?"

"Mistake?" He scowled as he stalked to her. "I remember you being quite breathless several times during our encounter."

"Only because you're so heavy." Padma spat then blushed to the roots of her hair. "I'm leaving."

Lucius stopped her with a soft hand to her shoulder. "Mona Lisa, please... I suspect... You must know that I did not plan this."

He cast a Lumos and raised the lights as the doctor blinked in the sudden brightness. He kept his face turned from her, scrambling in his mind for a reason to keep her there. "I actually didn't know you were staying at the hotel until I saw you with the smarmy... Until I saw you in the dining room. I have a water leak at the villa."

"There seems to be an epidemic of that here," Padma said through stiff lips. "I was staying at the hostel by the market..." She paused before adding with dawning understanding. "Your house-elf."

Lucius nodded. "I'm afraid so. I would give him clothes but he would just stick around to ensure my misery. He seems to be fixated upon me."

The doctor relaxed in his grip, giving voice to a rueful laugh that she did not explain. "You do know that I can't accept all the expensive gifts you gave me."

"Gifts?" Lucius retreated to the bar and poured a finger of Firewhisky, inviting Padma to join him with a lifted brow. She declined with a revolted expression and a shake of her head. Lucius padded to the divan in front of the fire, waving his wand over the candles and extinguishing them with a silent Nox. "Please, Doctor, join me. I promise to be on my best behaviour."

Padma sat at the other end of the long divan, keeping her expression neutral as she did so. "I don't think it's you I have to worry about, Mr. Malfoy."

"Perhaps." Lucius let his legs fall open in a relaxed sprawl. "Now, tell me about these expensive gifts that came from me. I am intrigued as to what other mischief my trusted servant has gotten up to in my name."

&*&*&

Padma felt a jolt of awareness as Lucius, who had crept closer to her in the intervening hours of talk, touched her leg with his. She suppressed the desire to draw even closer to him as the muscles flexed in his throat as he spoke. "I suppose my politics were execrable when I was younger, but I was given little choice at the time."

"What do you mean?" Padma asked. "We all have free choice. You could have chosen not to become a Death Eater. You could have defied your father."

"I resisted. I was twenty-one, well past the age that Severus was when he took the Mark." Lucius grimaced then sipped his Firewhisky, his second in an hour. He was making an effort to slow down, he reminded himself. "You are correct. I could have chosen to shorten my life expectancy and that of my father's to mere hours rather than years. The Dark Lord did not care for dissension in the ranks, no matter if meant extinction for the pureblood lines he controlled."

Padma nursed her Firewhisky and looked at the glowing embers in the grate. She had always assumed that Death Eaters were devils and somehow born evil. She had never considered what each of the young men faced if they chose not to follow Voldemort. It was, in fact, hard for her to picture the man before as a callow boy. She leaned her head back, wondering how they had drifted from the original subject of their assignation. Lucius bestowed a lazy smile on her. "You look sleepy."

"I am." Padma leaned toward him, letting her lips brush his ear as she whispered, "I like you, Lucius Malfoy, even with all your baggage and advanced age. Let's not waste my holiday on your fears of the future."

Lucius turned to her and claimed her lips with a languid pressure. When he pulled away from her, his hooded eyes bore a heat that had been missing in them before. "I believe I like you too, gods help me. I could be your father."

"No, you're too fair." Padma laughed at her joke a little tipsily. "I think I should retire to my room before I seduce you."

"Stay with me." Malfoy lifted his brow. "Not tonight, but at the villa. I'm sure as soon as I speak to my errant house-elf, I shall have all the water I need. I'll buy you a futon and give you your own room to ensure my best behaviour."

Padma twined her fingers through his. "Why, Lucius?"

He shifted his weight so that more of his body rested against hers. "Because I seem to be lacking friends at the moment... Because I grow tired of my own limited conversation... Because I enjoy your company... Because I want you... to, that is. Choose the answer you like best."

"I shall consider it if you answer the question I tried to ask before." Padma said then yawned. "Why did you want to get rid of me so badly after... we made love?"

Lucius scoffed softly as a blush spread over his cheeks. Padma was fascinated with the way his long, silver lashes swept downward over his pinkening skin. "The truth?"

"M-hmm." Padma hummed as she slid her tiny, dark foot across the top of his long, pale one. "Always tell me the truth."

Lucius gave her a sceptical look, which she countered with a gentle hand to his cheek. He drew a deep breath. "The humiliating truth is that despite my reputation as a somewhat practiced lothario, I have had little sexual experience outside of marriage. My father controlled me completely as a young man. He chose the time and the place of my deflowering and ensured that there would be no irritating by-blows that might lay claim to his empire."

Padma watched the jerk of his Adam's apple and felt the sting of his humiliation as he admitted, "When Narcissa divorced me, I consulted certain men's periodicals for information on modern dating etiquette."

"Which one?" Padma asked dredging up the name of one her cousin read regularly. "Wizard's Quarterly?"

The flush deepened on Lucius' cheeks as he said repressively, "None with which you would be familiar. It was a Muggle publication."

She laughed and revelled at the throaty sound of it against his chest. "You read a porn magazine to get your dating advice?"

Lucius shifted looking as if he wished the floor would open up and swallow him. "I... did."

"Lucius Malfoy, that is the saddest and sweetest thing I've ever heard." Padma kissed beside his lips as he scowled. "It's time I left. I'll let you know tomorrow whether I will take you up on your offer."

She picked up her sandals and carried them out on her two fingers, not sure if she was feeling dizzy from being tipsy or from being more than a little infatuated.

&*&*&

Sunday morning, Tomas donned his best suit, a brown summer-weight serge that he always wore with a lavender shirt. He looked at himself critically in the mirror, noting the way the cut of the coat accentuated his shoulders and nipped in at the waist. He thought he looked quite dashing; even the care he took would probably be wasted on the Auror he hoped to impress. He ran a hand through his hair, tousling it a bit to give himself the sexy, just-out-of-bed look that he liked to project.

He even made it to the door of the apartment before he stopped. Why bother?

He saw in his mind's eye, the blond, handsome face of his first love and felt once more the disappointment of crushed hopes.

Tomas sat on the divan and loosened his tie. He would be going nowhere today. Even brunch with the usual crowd held no appeal for him. For heaven's sake, he was thirty-three years old. Wasn't it time he grew up?

He spent the rest of the day in bed, feeling sorry for himself and eating chocolates. Tomorrow he would go out and meet a more suitable partner at the gym. Today, he just wanted to feel sorry for himself and gain weight.


Thanks for reading. Lucius respectfully requests that you review. He's truly wondering what you think of the author's portrayal of him. He also hates being called sweet and has thouroughly chastised the author for her presumption.