CHAPTER 53
Dr. Feelgood
Natalia spent Christmas Day with the children, which was perfect for they gave her much joy even though they were exhausting at times. Each child received a special present from her that she had personally chosen for them. She made a large Christmas breakfast while they sat in their little high chairs and watched with wide eyes. When their tummies were full, she changed all their nappies and tucked them in for a midday nap.
It was to be a day of rest but with the regular nanny off, she was already exhausted so she made herself a cup of tea and went into her room. She opened the curtains and forlornly watched the snow fall quietly along the deserted streets of Hogsmeade as she remembered previous walks in the snow with Igor so many years ago. The arms that had once so tenderly shielded her from the cruel world were now disturbingly disfigured by drugs and dark marks. The very thought made her shudder and she swallowed a large lump of worry in her throat.
She simply could not get herself into the Christmas spirit after her two disastrous run-ins with Igor. She was angry and disappointed in him but more than anything, she was terrified for his safety. The story in The Daily Prophet about his deplorable partying had been true, but far more disturbing was the revelation of his drug use. As if joining Voldemort wasn't bad enough, he was now dependent on Black Dragon and could be easily manipulated by that without magic. His judgment was already impaired if his erratic behavior was any indication.
To make matters worse, things were getting stranger in general. There were unexplained disappearances of prominent people and others known to openly oppose Lord Voldemort's racist notions. Natalia, though like-minded with those people, was savvy enough to keep a low profile and distance herself from them. She had four orphans under her care now and had to think of them first before grandstanding radically and drawing attention to herself as Sirius and his friends did. So when Sirius hopefully asked her to be his guest at Lily and James on Christmas day, she politely declined. As cocky as he was, she shouldn't have been surprised when he vowed to wear her down. But there would be no wearing her down. She had enough issues between worrying herself sick over Igor and dreading the inevitable moment when Lucius would proposition her again. Men were nothing but trouble and she already had plenty.
Igor awoke alone and I'll from too much drinking the night before. He rolled over to gaze out the window of his penthouse apartment in O'Kent Square to see near white out conditions. It was a white Christmas that reminded him of his youth in Russia, and the memories made him dreadfully melancholy. He missed his siblings and his parents on special holidays, but his stubborn streak prevented him from visiting them. Still he yearned for the traditional foods his mother would serve and the warmth of family life. He contemplated ordering his newly acquired house elf Sandy to cook the traditional holy supper for him but that was surely a recipe for disaster.
She'd come to him through a winning hand of poker against Dulohov and he had been ecstatic with his prize for it represented status to own a servant. He was surprised when Dulohov merely shrugged at the loss, but he soon realized why his opponent was glad to be rid of her. Sandy had come from some island in the West Indies and while her accent was charming, she was terribly bossy, flippant to her master and quite vocal about her disapproval of his lifestyle.
"Who dat girl I saw sneakin' out of da room dis mornin'? Get yourself up now so I can wash dem sheets," she would chastise. "No tellin' where baggage like dat been dees days."
Igor snickered to himself for Sandy was dead right but he would outwardly scold her for her cheek.
"Eh," she coughed one morning after a party he'd hosted for the Lestranges. "De may come from a fine family but de got de manners of trolls. Knocking over my master's water pipes and cleaning out his liquor cabinet. Dat Misuz always cackling loud enough to wake de dead and checking out all de mens in front of er' 'usband."
"Enough!" Igor would groan even though he agreed with her. But his good humor ended when she discussed his illicit potions.
"You rot de brain wit dis garbage. No nice witch gonna talk to you wit dos marks on ya arm."
Igor's response was low and uncharacteristically menacing. "That topic is off limits unless you want me to sell you to the Lestranges. They won't put up with your mouth."
She was quiet on that subject after that, but Igor found that his stash frequently came up short or altogether missing if he didn't keep close tabs on it. Though he couldn't prove that he hadn't gotten so wasted he misplaced it, or did more than the thought, he was pretty sure she was hiding it from him. Sadly, his devoted servant was the closest thing to family he had today.
So when he bumbled into the kitchen in his pajama bottoms with massive bed head on Christmas morning, he greeted her with a hearty "Happy Christmas, Sandy."
"Appy Christmas to you too, Master Igor. Will dere be a lady joining you for breakfast dis fine morning?"
She knew him embarrassingly well. "No Sandy, not today," he sighed and poured himself a cup of strong black coffee from the pot she had sitting on the stove. "It's just you and me today." For this he was actually glad, for the morning after with these various witches he bedded was always awkward. "I'll see you again soon," he always lied and hoped they knew better than to believe him. Surely they didn't.
"You need to find yourself a nice witch and settle down, clean up your act," she muttered while clanging dishes around in the sink. "Den you won't be stuck with your house elf on Christmas."
Igor sipped his steaming cup of coffee, preferring to get some caffeine in his system before he dealt with little miss know it all. He was still too groggy for an argument so he chose to kill her with kindness as the saying went. "Sandra, you are by far the most charming woman I know, and a holiday with you is a blessing." He was laying it on thick but only half kidding for he had no better prospects. He raised his coffee mug to her. The little elf smiled and then directed him to the table. "Go eat your breakfast."
"Only if you join me." He swept his arm towards the table and bowed slightly. His particular brand of charm that worked on witches and muggle women of all ages and inclinations would certainly work on female house elves.
Sandy looked suspicious but shuffled dutifully to the table and hopped up on the chair, her large eyes barely seeing over the table.
Igor gazed across the table laden with sausages, quiche, sweet breads and fruit. His mother would have been pleased with the little elf's efforts and that was a statement for she was perpetually dissatisfied. He began to feel guilty for considering the little waif an annoyance at times and attempted to engage in cordial conversation.
"So Sandy, did you have any family Christmas traditions?"
"Why you wanna ask your house elf des questions?" She was unaccustomed to the level of familiarity Igor projected towards everyone even servants, for her last master was cold and dismissive.
Igor shrugged as he chomped on a large piece of sausage, his table manners still atrocious well into adulthood with no one to point out this shortcoming so that it might be corrected. "We might as well make conversation," he mumbled with a mouthful of food.
Sandy's lip curled in disgust though she tried not to be obvious. "I don' like talkin' 'bout my family."
Igor persisted, never being one who was respectful of personal boundaries and oblivious that others would be put off by such prying. "I'll make you a deal. If you tell me something about yourself, I will tell you something about myself."
Sandy looked down at her sausage and began to cut it up into bites. "I already know too much," she said gravely.
"Oh I doubt that," Igor quipped. "You strike me a right nosey little imp."
She scowled at him for a moment before starting the game. "When I was little, my mother and I served a family who lived by the sea. She would make me little presents and hide them in seashells."
"Hmmmm," he hummed thoughtfully while envisioning her as a tiny little elf opening seashells with eager anticipation.
"My turn." She quickly took her opportunity to ask something that she'd been wondering about. "I heard date you were once engaged to a lovely young lady dat adored you, but datt you abandoned her."
Igor dropped his fork which clanked loudly against his plate and made his surprise glaringly obvious. "Abandoned her?" He gaped at her for he'd never considered how his actions would have appeared to people who didn't know the sorted details. "No," he responded sadly. "It wasn't like that."
"Den why did you split up?" Sandy pressed him quickly, not wanting to lose momentum for she was dying to know the truth.
He leaned back in his chair and smirked at her in amusement, finally composing himself. "You know so much, you tell me."
Sandy was bold as always. "It was because she was poor. You wanted a rich wife and so when you got tired of her, you cast her off."
"Hmmm, so that's the story circulating through the kitchens and servants quarters these days."
"Is dere a better one?"
"For your information it had nothing to do with finances. She lied to me about something, something big. When I discerned the true nature of her character, I naturally could no longer associate with her." His stomach turned at his own words which sounded so clinical and cold while the mere mention of her name made his heart burn for her all over again. Duplicity was bad for his soul.
"And are dese witches you associate yourself wit now of upstanding character?" The way Sandy put the emphasis on "up" made it sound like she was stifling a belch and was quite apropos when considering the witches he'd been balling of late.
"It's not their character I'm interested in." He raised his eyebrows naughtily and shrugged an outward appearance of nonchalance. "It makes no difference really. "
"It does if you want to spend Christmas with someone other dan your servants."
Sandy remained silent for Igor was slow to anger and she knew she had overstepped her bounds. They ate in silence for several minutes before she spoke again, this time softly. "You learn a lot about the people you serve. I know you to be a kind hearted man despite the company you keep. I just hope you find a nice witch one day. Den you be happy."
"I'm happy now," he said coolly.
"Den why you need dat Black Dragon?"
Igor glared over the table at her his rage bubbling to the surface in the face of this impudent little elf. "Why you insolent little twerp! Who are you to judge me?" He whipped the napkin out of his lap and threw it down on his plate before rising to leave the table. "Clean this rubbish up. I'm going back to bed. Anything is better than listening to you flap your trap all day. " He'd had enough. It was almost noon and he had yet to have a fix of Black Dragon, so this conversation needed to end quickly. Igor stalked away from the table and into the seclusion of his locked bedroom. There he rifled through his coat pocket and sighed with relief when he found the pot of the dragon. His hands shook as he opened the pot and even his wand clanked against the sides of it as he dipped it in, but the moment he touched the substance to his arm the warm, heavy blanket of relief engulfed him and he flopped back down on the bed.
He lay there for an hour or so, watching the snow fall and stewing about his conversation with Sandy. It irritated him that a few barbs from a mere servant could get to him so. But what bothered him even more was that he'd been thinking about Natalia constantly since he last saw her. She'd called him out on his addiction as well and for the first time he was beginning to feel shame for the hold it had over him. He longed to see her, to apologize yet again and to experience the joy she'd once brought him. So since it was Christmas and also since he was high as a hippogriff, he made the decision to pay her a visit.
Igor apparated to the snowy streets of Hogsmeade just before dusk, and gazed along the empty streets, soaking in the eerie silence that always seemed to accompany a blanket of snow. He admired the improved frontage of The Three Broomsticks. When last he was here it had been pitch black and he was inebriated, so this pleasant scene had gone unnoticed. She had obviously worked hard in these years without him. She had accomplished something. If asked he would tout his own accomplishments to her, but inside he felt like he was floundering. The Dark Lord used him only at public events saving more important missions for others. He felt like a show pony rather than a work horse and the idleness was bothersome. It did not occur to him that he was quite useless and unreliable in the grips of his addiction that he would not call an addiction.
The melodious sound of children's laughter wafted from the back of the building and he immediately recognized the next voice as Natalia's. "Then we will give him a big orange carrot for a nose. Then Donald, you and Curt put the coal on the front for the buttons. Oh Katherine, that's a lovely snow angel, but jump up now before you get snow in your boots."
Igor's heart warmed immediately and he crept down the alley next to the pub as quietly as he could so he would be unseen and also still be able to eavesdrop. He peeped through a knothole in the fence to see Natalia looking lovely as ever in her old Slytherin stocking cap with her shoulder length dark hair peeking out below. He cheeks were pink from the chill in the air as she tossed tiny snowballs lightly at the children in the yard. There were four little ones; two little boys and two girls, none of which could have been older than two. He was baffled. Who could all these children belong to? Surely they were not hers. He would have heard for gossip such as that was too hot not to spread amongst his cronies and they would have been more than happy to unload that terrible tidbit on him. She looked as joyful as he remembered her when they were in school, and he couldn't help watching her in secret until she began to collect the children to go inside.
"All right then, can't have you all get chilled to the bone. Let's go inside and have some hot chocolate before dinner. Come now, spit spot! Don't forget to wipe your feet."
He chuckled softly at her motherly inclinations that were utterly her. She heard the soft male laughter and cocked her head in the direction of the knot hole. He was caught. She shooed the children quickly inside while drawing her wand in his direction and never taking her eye off the knot hole.
"Who's there?" She asked sternly when the children were inside. Igor did not respond but tried to remain motionless as she drew nearer. His heart nearly stopped as he continued to peer through the hole. Closer and closer she came now meeting his gaze directly as she zeroed in on the eye staring back at her. She was mere inches away from him and despite the barrier between them he could feel the electricity flowing between them. She stopped and for a moment their eyes remained locked. He moved his face even closer to the knot hole, his eye right upon the opening. His eyes were wide and vulnerable when her finger suddenly poked through the hole, nearly blinding him and sending him reeling backwards holding his wounded eye and grunting in pain.
"Ouch! What are you trying to do, poke my eye out?"
Natalia waved her wand, vanishing the wooden fence between them. "It would serve you right, spying on people. What are you doing here anyway?"
Igor shook his head violently and rubbed his eye, then blinked in an exaggerated manner trying to right his eye in the socket. He groaned again and looked upward, moving his eyes around to test them. Finally he looked down at her with his one bloodshot eye and answered, "I came to wish you a Merry Christmas."
Natalia paused and looked up to study him. "Merry Christmas." She replied flatly before she turned to go back inside.
"Wait. Don't go yet."
"What is it, Igor? I can't leave the children by themselves."
"May I come in with you? I could help you. Looks like you have your hands full." He cringed at the desperation in his own voice, how undignified.
"I don't want them around junkies," she spat.
"Junkie?" His spine stiffened at the insult for he did not use that word to define himself and even Sandy would tread lightly around such a slur.
She turned to go again. But he grabbed her arm.
"Take your hands off me!" She stuck her wand in his ribs.
"Oh, so high and mighty now aren't you, kitten?"
They glared at each other until she tried to, pull away again.
"Not so fast. Whose children are those?"
"That doesn't concern you."
"Well it's Christmas and they are with you and not their parents so my guess is they are orphans. You know the dark lord has heard of this. He's been making inquiries. It could get dangerous if he decides he doesn't like this."
"I know that. I don't need you sticking your nose into things."
Igor narrowed his eyes trying to figure out how she could know of something he thought Voldemort only shared with his inner circle. "You presume to know what the Dark Lord, thinks?"
Natalia tried to pull away but he held her arm tightly, so she spat the words that she knew would repel him, "Lucius told me."
He was predictably horrified, releasing her like she had a disease, and stepping away. So they were still in contact. Lucius was not long married and this information about the Dark Lord was new so they were surely in contact recently. He felt his lip curl up in disgust as the pit of his belly knotted and he began to crave the dragon once again to dull his pain. "Hmpf," he grunted. "I should have known; all these years and you are still crawling to that rat."
"I crawl to no one. We are friends and no more."
"Ah yes, what's that phrase? Friends with benefits?" He wanted to kick himself the second he said it. Why couldn't he get control of his mouth? This lack of self-discipline would not serve his needs.
"I won't grace that barb with an answer for it doesn't deserve one." Her tone was condescending as if she were speaking to one of the children while she busied herself picking up a discarded mitten and a wayward used tissue that one of the children had dropped. "Lucius Malfoy is a married man and I…" her voice caught in her through and when she looked up at him, he could feel their connection like the first time he kissed her. "Well I…" she inhaled sharply and exhaled the rest of her sentence, "I have a very full life as you can see."
"Are you seeing anyone?" It was a heavy handed inquiry but he had to know. Did he have any competition? Was his way clear?
"What business of that is yours?"
He was unprepared for her curt response and stumbled a bit. Perhaps he was mistaken about her feelings. "I…I certainly wish you no ill will."
"Ha!" Natalia rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips. Igor knew he was in for it. "You wish me no will ill." She began to walk closer to him, wand down but gripped tightly. "Really? Really? That's the best you've got; 'no ill will'. After you cast me out without a prayer, humiliated me in front of your parents, never contacted me again until you waltz into MY pub and call ME a prostitute in front of everyone in the place. Me? A prostitute after I have to open the bloody Daily Prophet every day and hear about your latest STD ridden conquest? Well, that's just bloody brilliant, that is?" Her eyes blazed and he felt the heat in his cock. His mouth began to water.
"Natalia, please, just let me apologize." Dear Merlin, he wanted this witch in his bed tonight. He would do anything.
"I don't want your apologies."
"Then what do you want? Please tell me." He put his hand lovingly on her hip. Oh he was so close to kissing her. Another moment and she would be his again and this sad tale would end. "I'll give you anything," he breathed, mere inches from her face. "I want to make things right."
"Anything?"
Her tone was soft but he didn't like the way she said 'anything' like there would be some business condition some cause or caveat he was about to find extremely distasteful. Shamefully, he prepared to be asked for money, for that was still how he viewed her, but her request was to be far more terrifying."
She put her hands on his and gazed up into his eyes. "Get yourself clean."
He stood staring at her for a moment, knowing his response but ashamed to give it life.
She squeezed his hand and inched closer. "For me. Please."
He pulled back and squared his shoulders. "Always think you know what's best, don't you?"
"Not always, but in this case, yes. You wouldn't be acting so erratically if you weren't under the influence."
He sighed heavily and looked at the purple sky, darkening under the setting sun. He needed to change the subject. Perhaps if he could just get inside with her, if he could have her attentions with no one else, they could work through this. He knew he had enough Dragon in his pocket to get through the night and if he was careful he could hide the actual use of it. "May I at least come in?"
"No." She shook her head slowly; the joy from moments ago now completely vanished. From inside the kitchen a loud clatter of pots and pans startled them both, followed by laughter from the children who were setting about demolishing the kitchen. "I have to go." She went in before he could utter another word.
His shoulders slumped and he jammed his hands in his pockets while wondering how he'd let his life become such a mess. As the snow began to fall again he walked down the gloomy alleyway awash in painful nostalgia and deep regret for not telling her how beautiful she looked today.
