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Harry Potter In The Witcher [33]
🕑 Added 2025-06-06 11:29:12 +0000 UTCGeralt took that to mean that the specific type of dragon this man, Harry, transformed into was either not native to these lands at all, or perhaps it was a whole new, previously undocumented species altogether. Both options would make a certain amount of sense, which, frustratingly, made it harder to pick which theory to lean towards.
"Hmph…" Geralt grunted, a sound of reluctant acceptance. "Well, I guess I can't exactly complete the contract that was given to me then, can I?" he said, as he finally, fully sheathed his silver blade and stared, with a lingering sense of disbelief, at the now rapidly shrinking, shifting form of the massive black dragon.
Soon, the man named Harry from earlier, looking remarkably unruffled, was standing in its place. It was still almost unbelievable to witness.
"Yes, well, perhaps I can help you with that little issue," Harry said, a friendly smile on his face. "I have… quite a substantial sum of money tucked away. Perhaps I can repay you for your lost fee. How much were you getting paid for this, ah, dragon-slaying contract, anyway?" Harry asked, as he moved over to one of his shrunken trunks, which he’d apparently just un-shrunk from a necklace he wore.
"You don't need to do that," Geralt told the man, his pride pricking him slightly. "I'll be fine. Not the first contract to go sideways."
"Nonsense," Harry insisted, rummaging around in the trunk. "I know how Witchers live, how important these contracts are to your livelihood. You were probably going to get quite a hefty reward for slaying a dragon of my… reputation. Go ahead and tell me. I insist."
Eventually, after a bit more back and forth, Geralt finally, grudgingly, told him the amount.
"Two hundred and fifty orens?" Harry exclaimed, looking genuinely surprised, even a little offended on Geralt's behalf.
"That's it? For a dragon? Man, times must be really tough for you Witchers if that's the going rate for dragon-slaying these days." He pulled out a small pouch of clinking coins.
"Well," Geralt admitted, "I didn't actually believe you to truly be a dragon when I first accepted the contract. The descriptions I was given didn't really match up with typical dragon behavior. Still," he added, his expression turning more serious, "the fact that there's even a word out now that a dragon is residing in these mountains… that will cause dragon hunters, real ones, to come running. Especially if the claims of your size are verified. I would strongly advise you to leave this area, if you don't want constant trouble." Geralt himself was already preparing to head out, his work here clearly, and rather unexpectedly, concluded.
"Hmph. Well, that's certainly an annoyance," Harry said, though he didn't seem overly concerned. "Here is the coin," he said, handing Geralt a pouch that felt considerably heavier than 250 orens.
"Three hundred orens. The extra fifty is for your troubles, and for the sound advice." Harry offered him a kind, genuine smile.
Geralt nodded, accepting the coin. "I appreciate it," he said, his voice sincere. "I wish you well on your future travels, Harry." He began walking backwards, towards the entrance of the cave.
"And I you, Geralt of Rivia," Harry said, his smile taking on that enigmatic quality again. "I have a strong feeling that we will meet again… at some point, down the road." As he finished speaking, he, and the conjured chairs, and the trunk, and everything else in the cave that hadn't been there when Geralt arrived, simply… vanished, with a soft, almost inaudible pop.
Geralt's cat-like eyes widened for a brief moment in surprise at the sudden disappearance, then he shook his head, a wry smirk playing on his lips. This 'Harry' was certainly full of surprises. He turned and left the now empty, silent cave.
…
1252, Cintra
Harry's POV:
Harry stayed hidden, silent and unseen, in the deep shadows of the royal bedchamber. Loud, agonizing screams of pain were echoing throughout the dimly lit room.
Harry, however, wasn't paying much attention to the screaming, or to the many flustered, scurrying handmaidens running frantically around the room.
Instead, he simply sat in a dark corner, hidden by a complex web of disillusionment and silencing charms, calmly reading a book while he waited.
He even had a secondary sound-dampening charm active around his immediate person, just to lower the volume of the incoming sounds, because the screaming, frankly, was getting a bit much, even for him.
Harry was currently engrossed in a rather dry, academic book on the theory and practical usage of magical portals by… well, by what he considered to be "normal" mages, those without his unique advantages.
They seemed so horribly medieval, so clunky and inefficient, when compared to the elegance and speed of Apparition.
You also, apparently, could not reliably use them in active combat, which, in Harry's opinion, was a complete waste of a potentially useful magical transportation method.
Apparition, with enough skill and practice, could most certainly be used effectively in combat situations.
Portals, he noted, also seemed to work similarly to Apparition in one crucial, and rather dangerous, aspect: if you didn't know exactly where you were going, if your visualization was off, you could potentially end up… well, anywhere.
Or nowhere at all. Despite their numerous faults and limitations, however, portals were generally considered much safer than Apparition, mainly because there wasn't really a chance to accidentally splinch yourself to leave bits of your body behind if you did it wrong.
If you messed up a portal creation, it would most likely just… not work at all.
Harry finally raised his head from his book when he noticed that the incessant screaming in the room had, at long last, stopped.
A new, much smaller, and considerably more welcome sound had taken its place the thin, reedy cry of a newborn baby.
He looked over towards the large, ornate bed in the center of the room and noticed that most of the harried handmaidens had now left, with only one, older-looking one remaining, tidying up.
An additional man and woman, however, had just entered the room.
The new woman who had entered was familiar to him, especially since he had, rather discreetly, saved her life from a nasty political assassination attempt not too many years ago.
Calanthe Fiona Riannon, the formidable "Lioness of Cintra," was now the reigning Queen of Cintra, as well as being, as of just a few moments ago, a brand new grandmother.
