I woke up reluctantly.
Like being dragged somewhere at five in the morning, when I'd just barely returned from graduation. Which, in my case, had been a very interesting night. Completely unplanned and random, of course.
But self-control did its job, and my eyes began to slowly unstick. Thankfully, the chaos that had come right before I fell asleep seemed to have disappeared entirely.
Blinking a few times, I quickly focused on the first thing that caught my eye.
...Huh.
"Got something you want to say?"
"There seem to be way too many beautiful women around me lately," I observed, without breaking eye contact.
The woman with red hair, with a noticeable hint of pink, froze for a moment, processing my words.
"Well, I guess I shouldn't have expected you to be surprised. After being around the beauty of a great witch, does an ordinary queen seem less attractive?"
"Probably." My brain still wasn't fully awake, so I ended up blurting out something, well... not too clever.
"Bold boy. But since you're easy on the eyes, I'll let it slide this time," she waved it off, smiling in a way that was... ageless. Really, she was just like Medea — at first glance, her face seemed young. But when you looked into her eyes and watched the expressions on that same face... youth was definitely out of the question.
Finally, my brain caught up, and fully processing the conversation so far, I bit my tongue. I assessed the magic of the woman sitting by my bedside and swallowed nervously.
If I dared to say something like that again in front of someone in my mentor's league (even part-time, which is important!), then…
"Oh, don't be so frightened. I don't kill pretty boys, especially not for being honest…" and she gave me such a look... No, I'll admit, that kind of attention is flattering, especially from someone of this caliber, but... Mother would kill me. She still has a ritual planned for my sixteenth birthday, and I can't miss it. Just can't.
"Even so, I apologize, lady…"
"Ha, such a cliché way to learn someone's name. You could've come up with something more creative, seriously," she clicked her tongue in disappointment. But, drawing on all my experience dealing with women like this, I stoically held my silence. Such behavior would no doubt annoy a regular guy, but I know my own limitations, and magic couldn't care less about gender dynamics or nuances, granting equal opportunities to all. "But all right, I'm Medb Feidlech, from Connacht, former queen of that kingdom, and so on and so forth."
"Among wizards, British ones in particular, you're known as Queen Maeve — the one who taught young witches of Ireland, even before there were magical schools." I recalled. Ha! Another legendary figure existing as a real person in the Harry Potter world. (Pure canon, by the way.)
"Yes, back around the five-hundreds from the birth of the Jewish Savior, or whatever he was, that is... around a thousand-five hundred years ago, I trained a dozen witches with potential. Let me tell you, handsome boy, that being a teacher is a thankless job." She wagged a finger at me in a mock-scolding way, as if she were a child herself. Say what you want, but Medea is far more serious, though I have to admit, I could never decide who is more beautiful. Truly otherworldly beauty.
"I'll keep that in mind," I said, quite understanding how much of a pain it was to make sure idiots didn't hurt themselves. One Dungeon Horror would certainly agree. "And… may I ask you a question, Your Majesty?"
"Well?"
"Why do you keep bringing up my looks? I got it the first time, if I may be so bold."
"Hm-mm, do boys these days no longer enjoy it when a beautiful…" she stretched out her words in a devilishly seductive way for a woman who was, well, who knows how many millennia old. "Girl admires their beauty? Or are you too proud? No? I expected a bit more confidence from a student of Medea's."
"It's not quite right to talk about Her Highness behind her back," I pointed out. "And she's not my full-time teacher. Just passed along a few things here and there. You must know what her opinion is of men after… certain events."
"I find it even more surprising! I expected to see another girl here, angry at all men, but instead, there's a boy standing in front of me in the finest traditions of Greek heroes. Not quite enough muscle, but that's an easy fix." With a dramatic flourish, the ancient sorceress shifted to a less suggestive position.
"Let's just say... I managed to surprise her," I recalled our first meeting, barely holding back a nervous twitch. It's a memory that'll stick with me till I die. "And I also like to think of myself as a decent man, not… some Jason-like scoundrel." Since my conversation partner had taken a more casual tone, I allowed myself a bit of informality as well — especially with someone who likely stopped caring about such things long ago.
"Ha! A faithful man," Medb's eyes glinted with amusement. "Such a rare find… But you're not lying; you actually believe what you're saying! I almost had my doubts for a moment…"
"About what?" I couldn't help asking.
"Why, about whether or not I should be taking your virginity, of course," she declared with the most nonchalant expression, something only the supremely self-confident could pull off. None of my acquaintances could manage it. Well, except Medea, but she's a case unto herself.
"Erm…" I cleared my throat. "Pardon me?"
"Oh, don't pretend you didn't get it. I can see in your eyes that you understood. Even someone a couple of years younger than you would have understood. How old are you, anyway? Sixteen? Seventeen? By now, people used to already have kids — everyone, from peasants to lords."
"Fifteen… and it's a different century now. The millennium's nearly upon us," I replied. The unsaid "...if you hadn't noticed" hung in the air, but my companion caught it immediately. Experience.
"Oh, gods, I've sunk so low that I'm willing to overlook what was practically a direct insult, all for a pretty face!" she said, feigning dramatic despair. Irish, or is Celtic the right term? Hard to know what they called themselves back when she was active. "But enough with the waiting — let's get on with the business, boy. I won't waste time on dramatic lines; I'd rather just show you firsthand…"
"Begging your pardon, but if we do this… Oh, why beat around the bush — if we sleep together, and I don't marry you, I fear I'll be killed, and we both know by whom!" I hurriedly found my excuse to decline. It was tough turning down such an opportunity with such a famous seductress (this lady's renown in magical history was not limited to just teaching witches), but I'd rather not be scolded by my mother for being unable to keep certain urges in check. "And as much as I'd want a connection with a lady so fine as yourself, life is just a little more precious to me."
"Pha-ha-ha-ha! Ha-ah... Ahh... Oh, how many husbands I've met proudly proclaiming they'd die for a night with me…" Medb finally said when her laughter subsided. "Fine, Medea wouldn't have bothered with an idiot who only thinks with his lower half anyway. I expected nothing less of your answer," I exhaled in relief, only to tense again as she continued, "But I won't give up that easily. Tell the Colchian that I insisted, and you can stop worrying about that fair-haired hide of yours."
"Will that be enough of an argument for her?" I raised an eyebrow skeptically, well aware of Medea's temperament.
"Oh yes, trust me. Whatever her quirks, nobody can call her a fool," the retired queen shrugged. "So let's say... I'll expect you back here in a year. And don't you dare lie with anyone else before me. Your virginity is reserved by me," she declared, not blinking as she met my gaze.
It was… slightly irritating, but… As clichéd and ridiculous as it might sound for someone from the twenty-first century, power really does rule all. Beings in her league could tie up any Auror office of any country into knots. Dumbledore himself is proof of that. If he weren't so powerful, no amount of influence would have kept him from being dismissed long ago.