Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery

Chapter 63 ~ Packing Up

Alfonso didn’t take the news of Isadora’s impending departure very well. The swarthy Italian wizard had been working on the witch for close to a year now, though he was no means monogamous in his pursuits. He had a number of willing women to indulge himself in. He was ten years Isadora’s junior, black-haired, gray-eyed and well built. Normally, the wizard could woo a witch out of her robes within two weeks. Isadora, however, proved to be a challenge.

“Bella, how could you leave without making love to me?” he asked her plaintively from the other side of the cracked door. “Without experiencing my passion…my pleasure?”

Isadora smirked at the wizard.

“Quite easily I’m afraid,” she responded. “I’m just not interested in you like that Alfonso. I’ve told you that before. I’m not interested in an intimate relationship.”

“Who says it has to be a relationship, Isadora? I am, as you English speakers say, ‘flexible’. A night of passion is well within my range,” he said to her seductively. If only the witch would open the door a little further and let him in.

Isadora arched an eyebrow at the wizard.

“As delightful as that sounds, Alfonso, I’m afraid I will have to decline. I am leaving the country in a matter of days. I don’t need any complications,” she said.

“Oh Bella, it would not be complicated at all. A wizard. A witch. A bed,” he said as Isadora shook her head, “At least let me come in and give you a proper goodbye and not have me standing outside your door like an unwelcome solicitor. At least that, Isadora.”

Isadora sighed. She really was treating him like a solicitor. But that was what the wizard was in essence. He was trying to solicit sex from her…or seduce her rather. Still, he had a point. She had dined with him on many occasions. She checked her pocket for her wand. Yes, it was there. Better safe than sorry. The witch opened the door.

“Come in, Alfonso. Forgive the state of the villa. I’m packing,” she said.

The wizard eased his way in, smiling broadly. He hoped she hadn’t disassembled her bed. He looked at the witch. She was beautiful. Exotic. Yes, he had other women, but none like Isadora. Alfonso longed to feel her long, ebony hair draped across him as he took her. If he failed to seduce her tonight, it would probably never happen.

Isadora looked at him speculatively.

“Alfonso,” she said, “I’m no Legilimens, but even I can see what’s going on in your head. You are not going to seduce me. If you want to spend time with me, make yourself useful and help me pack.”

Alfonso shrugged and took off his blazer. He had on a crisp, white shirt underneath that fit him well. He was a headturner of a wizard. But Isadora wasn’t interested in sleeping with him. She wasn’t a prude mind you. She just wasn’t attracted to him. Dominant, insistent men were not her forte any longer after Darius. But it wasn’t just that.

Isadora was still a relatively young, but mature witch in her late fifties. When she arrived in Naples she had one encounter with a wizard, and found that it was quite unsatisfying although the wizard was very sweet, passionate and attentive to her needs. He did his best to please her. He just didn’t have the drive or the tool necessary. Darius was a cruel man, but he had been a powerful lover and that was the kind of lover Isadora’s body was used to and craved. Rather than be frustrated, she decided to live a celibate life.

Alfonso walked over to a table full of knickknacks, took out his wand and started wrapping them in newspapers, his mind working a thousand kilometers an hour as he did so. Isadora was such a beautiful, desirable witch. He didn’t understand why she didn’t respond to him. He could tell she hadn’t been made love to in a long time. He decided to put a bit of pressure on her.

“Isadora, why are you such a cold woman?” he asked her. “You are too beautiful to be so cold.”

Actually the witch wasn’t cold at all. She was quite a warm human being. The wizard hoped by implying she was frigid, he could get a rise out of her.

Isadora frowned at him for a moment.

“I assure you, Alfonso, I am not a cold woman. I take it you are implying that I am frigid in order to make me ‘prove’ to you that I am not,” she said evenly. “It won’t work. I don’t have to prove anything to you or any wizard. You should accept my decision and not try to pressure me.”

Alfonso turned to her, his gray eyes pleading.

“But Isadora, I can’t help how I feel for you. I dream of you. I can barely eat because of you. I toss and turn all night thinking of you in my arms. I would love you like no other wizard ever loved you,” he said, taking a step toward her.

Isadora snorted as she reduced the sofa.

“Alfonso…I know about your other witches. You certainly aren’t sex-starved,” she said.

Alfonso stopped at this. Damn it.

“No other woman compares to you, Isadora,” he said, making the most sincere face he could as he returned to the knickknacks. He stood on the other side of the table so he could look at the witch as he worked.

Isadora actually laughed.

“Where did you dig up that line, Alfonso? You really should have brushed the cobwebs off of it before you used it,” she said, smiling.

Alfonso looked indignant and hurt.

“Line? What line? I was being sincere,” he said. “No one compares to your beauty, Isadora. I’ve never had a woman like you.”

“And you probably never will,” she concluded for him, picking up the shrunken sofa and depositing it into a rather large box. “In case you didn’t know, Alfonso…ALL women are one of a kind. Not just me. And that is another reason I am not drawn to you. You have no capacity to differentiate between women. It is all conquest with you. Well, I am not a city under siege, and you are not a storming army that will breach my walls. My virtue will not be ‘run through’ and die on the edge of your very used sword. We are going to separate as friends, Alfonso.”

Alfonso raised his eyebrows at her hopefully.

“Friends without privileges,” she amended, leveling her dark eyes at him soberly before walking over to an armchair and miniaturizing it.

Alfonso clutched his heart with both hands, an agonized look on his handsome face.

“Ah, you wound me to my heart, Isadora,” he gasped.

“There’s some healing potion in the bathroom,” the witch replied nonchalantly, picking up the little armchair and putting it in the box with the sofa.

Alfonso realized he was never going to fuck Isadora. The wizard finished wrapping the knickknacks, put them neatly in the box on the table, added some padding and sealed it. He picked up a marker and wrote, “Knacks” on the box. He put his blazer back on and approached the witch. It was time to say goodbye.

“I am going to miss you, Isadora. This will be the last time I see you. It will be too painful otherwise,” he said, taking her hand and kissing it. It was soft and fine in his large hand. He looked down at it, then at her.

“Perhaps, a kiss?” he asked her.

Isadora didn’t like the glint in his eye. He’d go overboard if she kissed him.

“No, I don’t think so, Alfonso,” she said

“Very well,” he sighed, releasing her hand, walking to the door and opening it.

“Ciao, Bella,” he said, giving her a small bow.

“Ciao, Alfonso. Have a good life,” the witch said sincerely.

“Without you, I don’t see how that’s possible,” he said smoothly. One more shot.

“I’m sure you’ll find a way,” Isadora replied, rolling her eyes.

Alfonso clutched his heart again.

“Again, you wound me,” he gasped.

“Then you’d better get a move on, Alfonso, before you are wounded too deeply to recover,” she said smiling at him.

The wizard would be fine. He’d probably find some comfort in one of his other paramours’ arms tonight.

Alfonso gave her a brilliant smile, bowed again and departed, closing the door behind him.

Isadora let out a sigh of relief and was about to drop to the sofa before she realized she had shrunk it.

Alfonso had given seducing the witch his best. Too bad for him his best wasn’t good enough.

Isadora looked around the almost empty living room. She had done well today. She would ship her things to London. The first thing she would do would find a house in muggle London or a surrounding area. She still could work, but she needed to be connected to the net. The magical world was wonderful, but they knew next to nothing about cable modems or the Internet.

Humming, the witch walked into the bedroom. That was the next room to pack up.

In a matter of days she would be reunited with her son.

Isadora hoped it would be a happy reunion.

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A/N: Alfonso was something else, wasn’t he? Isadora is sharp as a tack, though. Still, it’s not good she’s by herself. Maybe she will meet someone in England she can relate to. I have an idea who might be perfect, though less than perfect to Severus for a number of reasons. Lol. Would love to see him try to rein in his own mother if she set her sights on a wizard. Just a thought. Anyway, please review.

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The Burning Pen

Becoming Familiar with a Man of Misery
by Ruth Solomon

The story content is adult in nature and can contain graphic sex and violence. Those under the age of 18 are asked to leave this site immediately. You are not welcome here. The author is not responsible for those under-aged who view these works.

CHAPTER 64

Disclaimer: All recognizable characters belong to JKR. All situations are mine. No $$$ is being made from this fanfic.
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