Yggdrasil_Loki
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Harry Potter In The Witcher [26]
🕑 Added 2025-06-05 13:16:10 +0000 UTC"I'm actually rather busy at the moment," Harry said, deliberately brushing the woman off as he turned back to his book, hoping she’d take the hint. "So, you'll probably have to schedule an appointment. My P.A. is… notoriously difficult to get a hold of."
He could practically hear the two guards flanking her physically reaching for the hilts of their swords, their disapproval radiating off them in waves. He also noticed, out of the corner of his eye, the woman to his right subtly waving her hand, a silent command to calm her clearly pissed-off guards.
"Will you not at least listen to what I have to ask of you?" the woman asked, her voice gentle, yet filled with an undercurrent of desperation. "I have been searching for you, for any sign of you, for many months now. It seems… it seems destiny itself has brought you to my city, to this very garden, today. Would you please, I implore you, at least listento what I have to ask?" It wasn't quite begging, not in the groveling sense, but it was remarkably close.
That had gotten Harry's attention. Nobles, especially queens, tended not to beg for anything. They usually thought they were inherently deserving of everything, simply by virtue of their birth. To hear this woman, this queen, plead with him, spoke volumes about her desperation. Also, to hear that she had apparently been actively looking for him for months… that was a little concerning. How had she even known where to start?
"Fine," Harry said, finally closing his book with a sigh. "I make absolutely no promises to help you in any way, shape, or form. But I will, at least, listen to what you have to say. On one condition: you explain to me how, exactly, you know who I am, or rather, who you think I am."
The woman breathed a visible sigh of relief, a grateful smile illuminating her regal features. "Oh, thank you," she said, her voice filled with genuine emotion.
"Thank you for letting me speak. My name is Adalia. I am the Queen of Cintra." She paused, then continued, her voice taking on a more somber tone.
"I ask you to help me with my daughter, my only child. I believe she has been struck with a terrible, unknown curse, and she has fallen gravely ill. I have asked both the most skilled Sorcerers in the Northern Kingdoms and the most learned doctors to see her, but none of them can find the source of her debilitating illness. I… I have many friends, many contacts, in the more… magically inclined communities, and I have heard talk of you, whispers of your mysterious, almost miraculous, healing powers. I have been trying to track you down for months, following every rumor, every vague sighting, but I had recently, almost completely, given up hope… until I saw you sitting here, today, as I was passing by in my carriage."
She looked at him, her eyes pleading. "I myself possess some minor, latent skill with magic, enough to sense the… the aura of power around certain individuals. And I was able to feel your immense power, even from a distance. I knew then that it must have been you, the legendary Black Mage. That, combined with your… your distinctive black clothing, it all pointed to you. I know, I feel, it must have been destiny for our paths to meet today, in this place. Will you please, please help me save my daughter?" the Queen both explained and asked him, her composure finally starting to crack, tears welling in her eyes.
Harry just took it all in for a minute, processing the information. It would seem, much to his surprise and slight annoyance, that he had indeed gotten himself quite a reputation, a legend even, without ever being consciously aware of it.
Sure, he hadn't exactly been subtle in his actions over the past few decades saving elves, dealing with troublesome monsters, occasionally "redistributing" the wealth of corrupt nobles but he had honestly thought, with how relatively devolved and slow their communication methods were compared to his own original world, that any reliable knowledge of his person, his abilities, would have been quickly lost in the mists of rumor, exaggeration, and general confusion. Apparently not.
It had also, evidently, been noted by some that he was quite… old, or at least, had been around for a very long time, despite still looking so remarkably young. That could definitely be a problem.
A big problem. He would need to seriously tone down his visits to public places, become much more discreet.
If Ciri, when she was eventually born, heard of him, of this "immortal Black Mage," before they were supposed to meet naturally… well, he wasn't actually sure what would happen, but that was just asking for a temporal paradox, a messy, unpredictable complication he absolutely did not need.
"Hmm," Harry said finally, breaking the silence. "Your daughter, you say. And you believe she's truly been cursed?"
"I… I do not know for certain," Adalia said, her voice trembling slightly. "I only know that neither magical nor regular medical treatments seem to have any effect on her whatsoever. She just gets weaker, day by day."
Harry thought about it, though his decision was already made. Of course, he was going to help her.
If this Adalia was the current Queen of Cintra, then that meant Ciri, his Ciri, was almost certainly a direct descendant of hers, and therefore, a descendant of this sick daughter.
If her daughter died now, before having children of her own, then there was a very real, very terrible chance that Ciri would never be born.
Of course, the girl could always recover without his interference, through some other means.
But it was also possible, however slim, that something Harry had inadvertently done while here in this world, some ripple effect from his actions, could have somehow affected the future, could have caused this girl to fall sick in the first place.
Either way, he'd much rather be safe than sorry. The risk was simply too great.
"Fine," Harry agreed, standing up from the bench and tucking the book he had been reading into one of the deep inner pockets of his black cloak a cloak which, he now realized with a grimace, he was apparently going to have to change, as it seemed to have become his unintentional calling card. "I will go and attempt to heal your daughter."
"Oh, thank you! Thank you so much!" Adalia exclaimed, tears of relief now openly streaming down her face. She stood up quickly, her regal composure momentarily forgotten.
"If you can accomplish her healing, Black Mage, I will be most eternally grateful, and I will be willing to grant you any reward that is within my power to give."
"There is nothing in your power, Your Majesty," Harry said to her, his voice calm and matter-of-fact, as she began to lead him towards the distant, imposing silhouette of the Cintra castle, "that you could possibly give me that I would truly want."
