"Oh, it's Chang and Diggory!" Mathilda observed as we entered the Malfoy ballroom for the New Year's party. "He invited the other seekers. Very clever of Draco."
"Yeah, I see Viktor," I agreed, then gestured at a trio of other teens, "Guess those three are the extra players from the Durmstrang and Beauxbatons teams. Nobody can complain that Ginny's here now."
"Glad that kid is on our side," she grinned. "He's gotten too smart to be an enemy."
"And we have enough of those," I said, glancing at where Maeve was holding court with some of the younger guests, and then tracking Cantankerous Nott and the other Death Eaters that were still able to go out in public to where they were lurking in another part of the large room.
"No picking fights. Let's dance."
"Yes ma'am," I agreed, immediately making for the dance floor.
The night went better than the Yule Ball had. We got a bunch of dancing in. It was fun to watch Fleur and Bill be totally wrapped up with one another. Cedric and Cho made a cute couple. Draco managed to take Ginny out on the dance floor a couple of times. Nobody stabbed me.
"I realized there are a lot of people I don't know," Mathilda eventually pointed out. "Not the same as last year. Weirdly pretty."
"Point a couple out," I asked.
She managed to do so subtly over the next minute as we danced by. They were all, as she'd suggested, of indeterminate age and extreme beauty. "Sidhe?" she asked.
I considered. "Probably so. More than I thought they had in Britain. Wonder what's going on."
It took another hour, until it became apparent. When the fashionably-late guest showed up close to ten, all heads turned. On the arm of a large man who looked completely out of place in formalwear was a woman that appeared like she could live her entire life in an evening dress and not look out of place. Or in anything, really. If the probably-sidhe in the room were beautiful and Maeve was the most stunning of them, this woman made the rest look like pale shadows.
And then the moment was over, and she was just an extraordinarily attractive woman of indeterminate age. I saw several wizards that weren't used to sidhe glamor shaking their heads and looking away, confused by why the guest had so fascinated them.
Released from the compulsion to gaze in worship, I was able to catalog the more precise details. She was tall, especially in her heels, probably topping six feet. Especially contrasted against her charcoal dress and jewelry of blue gems, I'd almost think she was an albino—with hair the color of snow and skin that was somehow paler—save for her luminous green eyes. Her lips were the color of frozen mulberries.
I didn't actually even know what a mulberry was. That comparison popped into my brain unbidden. I intensely disliked sidhe magic.
"I don't like her," Mathilda confided.
"Maybe some upper-level luminary in the Winter Court?" I considered.
It didn't take long to overhear one of the nearby dancing couples that was faster on the gossip correct my assumption, "That's Madam Somerset. Maeve's birth mother." Of course, looking over, I realized it was Minister Fudge.
His wife huffed out, "Well I can certainly see why Abraxus took her as a mistress! I suppose you must greet her, but keep your eyes to her face, Cornelius." Looked like the Minister for Magic and his wife were still out of the loop that Maeve was only pretending to be Lucius' half-sister.
"It's Maeve's mother," I told Mathilda, whose hearing wasn't as good as mine.
"You mean…"
"Yeah," I confirmed. If Maeve was the princess of the Winter Court, that meant there had to be a queen.
"Let's dance this way," Mathilda suggested, putting as much distance as possible between us and the Queen of Air and Darkness.
We made it about two more dances before my luck ran out. "Ah. My daughter's fellow champion. Allow me a dance, Harry Dresden." Her voice was as perfect as the rest of her, but left no question this was not a request. "Slate. See that his paramour comes to no harm while I monopolize her date."
The big man grunted an assent, and offered a hand to Mathilda. She shot me a look before taking it which onlookers would probably interpret as jealousy but which I knew was an order to not die.
If dancing with Maeve had been like waltzing with a glacier, her mother was entirely surprising. While still as unyielding as marble, she was slightly warm. But I realized it was the warmth of an igloo: ice so solid that it was able to reflect my own heat back to me. Or perhaps I was simply interpreting the enormous well of power in my grasp as heat, for lack of a better way of translating it to my senses.
I tried very hard not to get handsy. Nervously, I, well, broke the ice with the first thing that came to mind. "You, uh, remind me of the babe."
"What babe?" the queen of the Winter Court asked calmly.
I really thought about seeing if I could get away with the whole bit from Labyrinth, but settled on just answering, "Maeve. I can see the resemblance." I took a breath and then pressed on, "She told me a few months ago you were still trapped behind the Veil. I'm surprised it didn't crack this year, with your visit," It was a dangerous gambit, but I was suddenly curious whether Maeve had lied to me, and how someone this powerful had been around for the last year or more without someone noticing.
"Since I don't intend to stay for long, the damage was significantly less than establishing a residency," she offered. I didn't know if it should be more upsetting than being lied to that the Veil was already damaged enough that the sidhe could come here on vacation as long as they weren't planning to stay long. "Unlike my daughter, I have responsibilities at home that can't see me here until the current situation is resolved. But an astute observation, nonetheless. You dance well." The "for a mortal" rider was clearly implied. "You may be the only person in the room tall enough to match me."
"Just one more service I offer," I joked.
"Offer me not your service, even in jest, lest I take you up on it," she suggested, tone flat. It was hard to tell whether she was being playful or delivering a dire warning.
I swallowed and explained, "I'm sure my godmother has warned you that I'm not really the joining type. Freelance is more my speed. No long term commitments."
"And yet you have willingly thrown in your lot with those that seem prepared to thwart me."
It took me a second before I realized, and I asked, "Do you mean, the British magical government?"
"Quite," she raised an eyebrow. "They have no claim on you. Why should you serve their interests and not mine?"
"Well, to be totally honest," I told her, unsure whether I was being compelled to be so truthful, "your daughter made a really bad first impression." She didn't seem upset by that admission, so I continued, "And none of you will tell me what you're trying to accomplish. But I'm pretty sure tearing down the Veil and removing our options to travel aren't in my interests."
"Did you not receive instruction from your godmother on the Ways?" she asked, and it took me a minute to realize that she meant the raths that I'd been afraid to use because doing so tended to pop scary monsters out into the world. "The effects on you personally should be minimal. And does the wizard government not need a trial such as that to shake up its complacency?"
I gave it real consideration, and finally answered, "I think if you could make a really compelling argument, you'd be making it to the government, rather than just trying to convince me to help you make their decision for them. I don't love the British magical government, but I don't want a lot of people to suffer in the hopes it makes them better."
"Well reasoned," she told me. "For the information you have available to you. If you survive the next few years, I expect you'll become quite formidable. Would that it had been an option to have your service from birth. I don't suppose you're interested in promising me your firstborn?" she asked, glancing over at Mathilda.
I shook my head, both slightly amused and vaguely offended by the suggestion, "That is way more forward relationship planning than I'm prepared to make, even if I were inclined."
She gave a faint twitch of a smile, and said, "At this point, little would surprise me more than you acquiescing to such an offer. Perhaps you should consider that your contrariness makes you predictable."
"Is this that reverse reverse psychology I've heard so much about?" I quipped.
"Perhaps. Or perhaps it is simply me weaving webs that may someday catch a fly."
I deadpanned, "Guess you wouldn't go with a sowing seeds metaphor, huh?"
"That is much more my counterpart's stock in trade, yes. The music is ending, Harry Dresden. Thank you for the dance, and the conversation. Hopefully you find the information you learned an even trade."
"If no debt is owed, then none is claimed," I agreed. "By the way, since I've now had a dance with both Maeve and you, should I expect one with your mother soon?"
That actually got a full, sly, terrifying grin. "Not soon. But meeting her someday is not out of the question. You may regret such a dance." With one last nod, she stepped free and returned to her escort.
"How'd that go?" Mathilda asked, reclaiming me for the next dance.
"Well, it was confusing," I explained, "but I didn't promise her our firstborn, so I think it went okay."
My girlfriend's face flashed through so many expressions in a moment trying to work that one out that it almost made the whole terrifying dance with the queen of the Unseelie sidhe worthwhile.