To be honest, up until this rather painful reminder of the way things work, I had held onto a bit of an illusion that influence could somehow substitute for power.
Wrong. Influence is only a necessary addition, nothing more. And necessary because even the strongest, in rare but possible cases, can end up paying the ultimate price.
"…Objecting would still be a foolish idea," I finally replied. "But why me? There must be plenty of wizards with, erm, handsome faces in Ireland, or anywhere else in Europe. It's not just because I know Her Highness, right?" Since our conversation had turned down this path, I figured I could push my luck a little.
"You're saying I wouldn't choose your face simply because I liked it?" she grinned, meeting my skeptical gaze. Someone as eccentric as her, using such a… logical reason for her actions? Ha-ha. Thanks, I needed that laugh. "Well, well, maybe my motives will stay a mystery for now. But really, virgins are far better, you know. Experienced men, on the other hand, always irritate me with their ridiculous confidence that they know better than I do about what to do when we're together." Medb snorted, while I sat quietly, letting her words wash over me.
Because, as nonsensical as her reasons might seem at first, after thinking it through, her motives, though unusual, actually… made sense, damn it. Put simply — she, as an experienced seductress, couldn't stand those who tried to take the initiative without having half her skill.
Can't argue with that. The experienced would obviously know best. And to anyone wanting to call this woman by any unsavory name, I'd suggest checking if they have any brains, and also if they have a survival instinct.
"Guess I'll be missing that 'special conversation' with my mother," I muttered, just remembering that it's supposed to happen eventually. In what form, who knows, but in old families, there's always a sort of talk for teens approaching sixteen because… it's necessary. Both for the family's interests and for the teen themselves. Which many parents somehow forget.
"Funny," the ancient sorceress remarked, rising from her chair. "Get up and get dressed. You'll have lunch with me, and another guest who I believe you're acquainted with."
"I suppose that's true…" I murmured, beginning to pull on the nearby clothes.
I didn't even mind the piercing gaze of the mistress of the place, who watched my every move. If she wanted to watch, she could. Her house, her rules. I had nothing to be embarrassed about, though I also didn't have much to show off. Wizards don't need chiseled muscles or mainstream six-packs — especially not those who don't risk their bodies playing Quidditch, after all.
It turned out that the ancient sorceress resided in an ancient castle. Smaller than Hogwarts, judging by the view from the windows, but inside it was far cozier — if compared to canon, it was incredibly comfortable. It was warm, bright, and generally pleasant here. The complete opposite of a typical historical castle.
As I quickly walked through a few corridors, I didn't see any other inhabitants except for the occasional house-elf.
"May I ask…?" I glanced over at the sorceress walking beside me.
"Ask away. I don't talk to people often enough to refuse such a small favor. The question is — will I answer, and if I do, will it be the truth?" The former queen's grin turned fox-like as she replied.
"How many house-elves does it take to serve your home?" I hid my curiosity about potential adversaries behind casual interest. You couldn't rule out the worst-case scenario when dealing with truly ancient beings; there isn't much left of humanity in them. They think… differently.
"Oh, there's a whole community here. Not as large as that boy Godric's little project, but there are still fourteen elves here." If she suspected anything, she didn't care. Good. Either she had no plans beyond what she'd said…
…Or she'd written me off long ago. But that didn't seem likely. Why go to all this trouble for me, then?
"Did you know Godric Gryffindor?" I asked, making a small logical deduction. Not that it was surprising; great people always know each other.
"Yeah. He's half-Irish. We even slept together."
"Got it," I replied calmly, no longer surprised by anything. It's probably easier to ask whom she hadn't slept with.
"Shame. I was hoping for more of a reaction, like I usually get, but I suppose… Yes, what am I saying? After all, I'm sure you've seen and heard much more surprising things with the Great Witch as your company." She gave herself a satisfied nod, walking with a sway so… practiced.
… If she were to end up in hell, the succubi there would likely hang themselves out of sheer envy.
"Maybe so," I replied vaguely, just as we entered a large hall reminiscent of a scaled-down Great Hall. Only one table instead of four, with chairs instead of benches, and a rather plain throne in place of the usual teacher's table.
There was Winnie, sitting and waving a fork at me as soon as we made eye contact. She was already halfway through some dish, surrounded by an impressive assortment.
"Guten Morgen, Fräulein," I greeted her, taking a seat across the table. Meanwhile, Medb had already reached her seat at the head of the table and plopped down on the small throne.
"Well then, servants of mine! Bring this German boy some of his homeland's delicacies. I'm not sure what's popular there these days, but I sent you to find out. I'll have the same — always nice to add variety." She said this cheerfully, while a house-elf appeared, bowed, and then disappeared again.
And… he was dressed in actual clothing!
"H-how…?" Winnie choked on her juice, wide-eyed in shock, exactly mirroring my own thoughts.
"Why the surprise?" Medb tilted her head slightly.
"Ahem…" Winnie and I exchanged glances. "In our time, it's considered impossible to dress a house-elf decently, as that would mean they're being set free. And, as you know, they fear that."
"Funny, but no big secret there. I just scared them more than they fear freedom." She shrugged, stretching out. "Plus, once they realized they were still serving me, they relaxed."
"That's… an interesting method," I responded neutrally, at a bit of a loss for words.
"Oh, those old crones always work like that — with people, with artifacts…" commented a familiar voice. I focused on one of the chairs and, leaning closer, saw the sword lying there.
"I'll thank you to watch your tone, you sassy little artifact!" Medb's playful gaze fell on Orna. "That's because you act high and mighty without knowing your place. To make it simple, it's like a peasant acting brazenly before a knight in full armor, who's also a count or something. That kind of behavior is just suicidal!"
"Oh, and you forgot to mention, you slutty cowgirl, that the knight's a tyrant and a lunatic. Why should the peasant respect him?" the sword shot back.
"The peasant should have enough sense to know that the knight could slice him in two," Medb shrugged as the two continued their bickering. I began to eat; the house-elves had already brought out the first dishes. Quick — very quick, actually. That's one of their best qualities, which is why they're considered indispensable servants and even beauty-loving pure-bloods don't mind having them around.
It's terrifying to think of what a war with creatures like them would look like. Whoever created them clearly understood this point and gave them a consciousness that ensured loyalty. Because they are absolutely not a natural species. A magical race with their abilities, evolving naturally, would never have become servants, and certainly not for so long that it became a genetic imprint.
And the fact that Granger didn't understand this in canon, even though she's supposed to be well-read, just highlights the issue with introducing untrained Muggle-borns into the magical world. There's information available about this, for free, and I checked. Either the Hogwarts administration intentionally cleared all this information out or classified it to create a wedge between wizards.
And knowing Dumbledore — who, in the canon, was already a decent manipulator in that children's story, let alone in real life… that's certainly plausible.