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"Aye, that's the main reason," he confirmed. "Though I do find it incredibly curious that it ended up in your hands, of all the people in this entire world. Could you perhaps tell me how, exactly, you acquired my book?" Harry asked, though Yennefer got the distinct, almost certain feeling that he was only asking out of a sense of polite formality, that he probably already knew the answer.
"A traveling merchant," Yennefer explained, trying to keep her voice steady. "He claimed to have found the book in a cave he'd spent the night in, and he sold it to me for a few orens. I don't think he knew what it truly was, or that it was yours."
Harry nodded at her explanation, a thoughtful look on his face. "Funny how that works out, isn't it?" he said, almost to himself.
"I suppose it was Fate, more than anything else. That meddling bitch. Well," he said, suddenly business-like again, "now that I have the book, I really should be off. Thank you for its safe return." Harry stood from the conjured chair, which then vanished in a puff of smoke.
Yennefer's eyes widened in panic. She quickly put her hands out, as if to physically stop him. "Wait!" she exclaimed, her voice more desperate than she intended.
"I… I wish to ask you some questions, if you would. After all," she added, thinking quickly, "I did technically pay for the book that you're now taking back. At the very least, you could allow me to ask you some things, as… as repayment for the money that I spent on it."
A ghost of a smile, a flicker of genuine amusement, appeared on Harry's face as he stared at her. "So, let me get this straight," he asked, his tone light and teasing.
"You seek to be reimbursed, with my time and knowledge, for 'recovering' my lost property, which you feel you now have some claim to, because you paid a random merchant a pittance for it, a merchant who, by his own admission, simply found it in a cave where I had left it. Is that… is that correct?"
Yennefer looked him directly in the eyes, and letting her own considerable charm and allure flow, she smiled, a slow, sensual, alluring smile. "Yes, of course," she purred, her voice a low, seductive whisper.
"You wouldn't mind spending just a little more time with me, would you?" she asked, trying to subtly charm the man into staying, a tactic that had worked on countless kings, nobles, and mages before.
The man, Harry, just threw his head back and laughed, a loud, clear, genuinely amused laugh that both angered and intensely annoyed Yennefer.
"You're about a century too early, and perhaps a dimension too late, to be trying to charm me into doing something, Lady Yennefer," he said, his laughter subsiding, though his eyes still sparkled with amusement.
"But, nevertheless, I suppose I can spare a few more moments of my time. Speak quickly, and I will either answer you honestly, or I will not answer you at all."
Yennefer breathed a small, internal sigh of relief. At least she had gotten him to stay, despite the fact that he had just practically, and rather rudely, insulted her considerable charms.
"Excellent," she said, her voice regaining its usual composure. "As you can imagine, I found many… surprising things in your journal. Is all of it true?" she asked, figuring she would start off with a light, general question, before working her way into what she really wanted to know.
"It is," Harry responded simply, his voice a calm, even tone.
Yennefer had hoped he would elaborate, perhaps offer some intriguing detail or anecdote, but he simply stared at her pleasantly, his green eyes watchful, and waited for her to ask something else.
She had to physically stop herself from gritting her teeth in sheer annoyance at the man's infuriatingly placid demeanor.
"What was the world you left like?" she asked, trying to keep her voice civil, to play along with his little game for now.
"Advanced," Harry said without hesitation, "beautiful, and, ultimately, incredibly boring." He then leaned forward slightly, his pleasant expression shifting into one of mild impatience.
"I understand you're trying to butter me up, Lady Yennefer, to lead me gently to whatever it is you truly want to ask me. But I really do have to go soon, so could you perhaps just… ask me what you desire, so I may be on my way?"
Yennefer scowled, her carefully constructed mask of polite curiosity slipping for a moment, but she soon wiped the look from her face, replacing it with a cool, business-like expression.
"So be it," she said, her voice crisp. "In your journal, you mention, several times, your ability to heal almost anything. And if you can't heal it directly, you can usually find ways to, as you put it, 'solve the problem'. Is this true?"
"It is," Harry said again, his gaze unwavering as he continued to look at her. Yennefer just realized, with a slightly unnerving jolt, that the man hadn't blinked once, not a single time, as he stared her directly in the eye throughout this entire, strange conversation. It was almost unnerving, especially coming from someone who looked so deceptively young.
"Good," Yennefer said, taking a steadying breath. "As you may already know, sorceresses, as a result of our magical abilities, are rendered infertile. We cannot conceive children."
"Most are, yes, but not all," Harry interrupted her gently. "There are always rare exceptions to every rule, biological or magical. But please, continue with your point."
Yennefer wished, with a sudden, fierce intensity, that she could scold him for interrupting her, for his know-it-all attitude. But she was currently in desperate need of his help, so therefore, she would have to play nice, at least for the time being.
"Yes, well," she continued, her voice tight with suppressed emotion. "I wish for you to heal my reproductive system, if it is at all possible. I wish for you to… to make me fertile again." She finally said it, the words hanging heavy in the air between them.
There was a moment of complete silence as the man, Harry, just looked at her, and for the first time, Yennefer could tell that he was genuinely surprised.
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