A/N: This story is more a prompt/challenge for others than anything else. Its not complete but has been marked as such. I will probably not write more since my knowledge of GOT/ASOIAF is not enough for me to even attempt writing a full story in that world. There is no satisfactory ending to this story, only a start (a cliched and predictable one at that) which I couldn't get out of my head. You have been warned. If you are fine with all that read on.

Anyone wishing to pick up from where I have left off is welcome to do so, that was the whole reason for this prompt. Just send me a PM so that I can follow your story.

Disclaimer: Obviously I don't own either HP or GOT or ASOIAF or any of the characters that are a part of those worlds.

The Wizard in Winterfell: Arrival

Lord Eddard 'Ned' Stark sat down on the roots of the heart tree. He was tired, not physically, but mentally he always seemed to be stretched too thin these days. There was so much to do. The rebellion had ended recently with Robert victorious but it had been a bitter victory. Most of his near kin were dead- his father, brother and his dear sweet sister; Benjen was at the wall and Catelyn - it seemed she was angry all the time. He couldn't begrudge her that, not after what she thought he had done. But it grated on him nonetheless that he had no one to confide in.

Above and beyond all of that were the problems caused by the war. While he had ridden to avenge his father and brother, the north had been devoid of its banners and leadership. Banditry- something that had always been quickly stamped out in the North had gained a solid foothold, not least because the war meant they were underprepared for the winter. It was a mild one, thank the gods, but that wasn't much comfort when you lived in the North.

Despite her coolness towards him his lady wife tried to help, but she was not of the North and their ways were not hers. It would be sometime before she would grow accustomed to how things were run here, but she was trying, as best she could. He wished that his father and brother were here. They would be handling things so much better than he ever could. For all that he was of the North; he too had a lot to learn about it as he had been fostered in the vale for much of his life. He sighed, it was wishful thinking what he was doing, and nothing would come out of it.

He looked at the heart of the tree he was sitting against. The face carved there seemed to mock his weakness. He wondered what the gods thought of him, he wondered if they even cared for the suffering of the people that worshipped them. He reached out to the bark shifting so that he was kneeling before the tree. It was cool to the touch. He reached out and as he closed his eyes he prayed- for guidance, for protection, for help so that he may rule the North wisely. So that he could protect it. As always there was no answer but he felt just a little bit lighter. It was time to return to his duties.

He had just stood up when he saw a figure materialise out of the trees away from the keep. He drew out Ice and was on guard in an instant. The person…for it was a person that had come out of the trees was thin and was wearing a robe made out of some kind of rich cloth but held no markers as to his affiliation. He appeared not to notice where he was as his eyes were half closed. Only then did Eddard feel the stench of blood on his nostrils as the wind shifted, the stranger was injured and gravely if the smell was anything to go by. Relaxing his guard somewhat he moved forward.

"Identify yourself".

The man shook out his daze to look at him with eyes that were the most startling shade of green. He looked around in confusion before answering.

"Where a..", and then before he could get far enough he collapsed.

Eddard moved fast but still with caution just in case this was some trick. The rebellion had created many enemies for him…enemies who would not hesitate to use assassins and tricks to get their revenge. But this didn't appear to be so as even when he moved in range the man still lay prone on the floor. His breathing was ragged and Eddard could see the blood pooling under his body. If it was an act it was a very convincing one. He raised his voice.

"GUARDS".

Ordinarily there would be no guards inside the godswood but with the rebellion only just ended there was still a chance of people seeking vengeance and so extra vigilance was required. Two guards in light armour came running from the keep. The sounds of their boots hitting the ground echoing among trees made it seem like more. One look at the body lying on the floor and the sword that was still in Eddard's hand and they reached a logical if erroneous conclusion and moved towards the man swords drawn. Eddard intervened.

"No, he is not a threat," he said, then amended, "at least I am not sure if he is one."

Thinking quickly he made a decision. "Take him to one of the rooms in the castle away from the suits where Lady Catelyn and my sons live. See that Maester Luwin tends to his wounds as best he can. Post guards on the door to ensure he doesn't escape. However, he appeared confused so treat him gently if he does wake unless he gives you good reason to do otherwise. And find me Rodrik."

The elder of the two guards, Rory nodded to show that he understood. Before he could do much however, there was a thundering of footsteps and a group of guards rushed in. Eddard squashed the urge to rub his forehead before repeating his orders. He ordered a guard to fetch master Luwin, another to fetch Rodrik and assigned Rory to watch over and see to the transportation of the stranger.

"I want to be informed as soon as he wakes and tell Maester Luwin I want to see him in my solar after he sees to him."

Saying this he went on his way to the audience chamber. He had done all that he could here. He would have Rodrik search the surrounding areas for any sign of battle but beyond that he could do nothing without more information. It was pointless to speculate. Meanwhile his other duties awaited- this bit of excitement notwithstanding. There were people who had come to see disputes settled and grievances redressed, and they could not be turned away. It was tiring work but it had to be done, a Lord who didn't care for his people was no Lord at all as his father would say.

He came across Rodrik on his way to the chamber.

"My Lord, the guard informed me that someone managed to infiltrate the godswood. I am sorry for this lapse and I take…"

Eddard cut him off.

"There was no lapse. We don't yet know what happened or how this person managed to get in. It is quite possible that he came across some guards who wounded him so. Have any patrols been reported missing?"

"Not that I know of but I will check and double the patrols and I will be having a talk with them. I will also check the surrounding areas for any sign of battle or hint as to how he managed to get in."

Rodrik had pre-empted Eddard's thoughts but then that was why he was Master-at-Arms. He was good at what he did. He could probably teach him a thing or two about defending a castle.

"I shall be in the Main hall. Inform me if something comes up. The intruder seemed confused like he didn't know where he was", he said thinking back to the words that had been said before he had lost consciousness. "See that no overzealous guard brings him harm if he wakes up. I want to question him. Inform Catelyn that an intruder was apprehended, better she get the news from me than from rumors. Double the guard around her and the boys."

Rodrik nodded and then went on his way while Eddard continued to the chamber.

His daily work seemed to him to last longer than ever as doubts plagued his mind as to the decisions he had made. He waited and waited for someone to inform him that the site of the battle had been found- either his guards or some small folk who had come by it in passing. As time passed and no such missive came his doubts grew.

What if the stranger was not some straggler who had been ambushed but someone sent specifically to harm him or worse - his family or Jon. As much as he tried to reassure himself, new questions and doubts formed as soon as the previous ones were assuaged. He had to force himself to concentrate lest he make a mistake. It would not do for the small folk to think he thought their troubles trivial but for once he wished that this session would end. He wanted to talk to Maester Luwin and to Rodrik to see what they had found.

Mercifully the line dwindled and at last the proceedings were concluded for the day. He got up and Maester Luwin was by his side leading him to wherever the intruder had been housed. He began talking without prompting.

"Lord Stark. The intruder's wounds have been tended to and he is stable. He should regain consciousness any time now." After this he stopped speaking though Eddard could sense that he had more to say.

"You have something to add Maester Luwin?" The Maester was not one to hesitate generally so it must be something of import.

"I left the intruder under the guard of Mater Rodrik. He was most vexed. While the intruder had several open wounds his tracks didn't lead very far. In fact they lead to one of the old weirwood trees and stopped there. Beyond that there was nothing," he stopped and then continued after a beat his voice held a hint of something Eddard couldn't identify.

"His wounds were curious. Apart from some minor cuts and scrapes and bruises, he had a deep cut on his arm and a major wound was on his chest. That wound was precise- in the shape of a lightning bolt and bled less than I would expect from its depth. But the most baffling thing was that there were no mark or tear on his robes or his clothes over where the wound was. The blood marks on his clothes also do not seem like he wore them after getting the wound- not that he would have been in any condition to do so. Moreover he is in remarkably good condition for someone with such sparse clothing in the North."

"What are your conclusions, Luwin?" Eddard said trying to make sense of all the information he had been given.

"I can't reach one My Lord. We will have to wait to get some answers from the intruder himself. But I don't believe he hails from here."

"What makes you say that?"

"His style of clothing is not of the North. From the quality of his clothes it is likely that he is form a rich if not noble background. There have been no reports from noble families of a missing member in the North and we do not have many rich merchants here. Beyond that I cannot say much."

"Could he be an assassin or sellsword?"

"Unlikely My Lord, his physique is not that of a warrior. Though he does have some calluses on his hands his muscles do not show the signs that one undergoing the training of a warrior would have. But I cannot be sure."

"True. Such speculation is pointless for now. We would get more answers if we talk to our prisoner if he regains consciousness. Anything else is pure guess work."

"Of course Lord Stark, his room is just round the corner."

Eddard walked with the Maester to the room. As per his instructions there were two guards outside the door. Inside he found Rodrik seated in a corner. When he saw Eddard at the door, he stood.

"My Lord."

"Maester Luwin has already informed me of your search, Rodrik."

"I apologise that it was fruitless my Lord. We searched the godswood inside out but could find no tracks other than the ones that led to the tree. We searched outside and I even had patrols check out all the surrounding areas but we found no traces of battle or fighting."

"You did what you could. The Maester informs me that he should wake up any moment now and we can get our answers. Anything else you found about him."

"He has mumbled a few words here and there…names I think, but none that I could recognize. He did have a stick from a weirwood tree in his hands but nothing else…no money or possessions of any sort. The…"

He was interrupted by a groan from the bed. The intruder was waking. Immediately Rodrik tensed, hand moving to his sword. The search having no results must have had a great effect on him for him to be this jumpy Ned thought. For good reason though, in all the years that he had been Master-at-arms, this was the first time that Ned could recall that someone had managed to get past the guard and patrols around the castle. He turned his attention back to the bed as the intruder spoke. He was looking around in taking things in. Then he focused his attention on them.

"Whe..", he stopped, his voice was scratchy. Clearing his throat, he continued. "Where am I?"

He had not noticed it earlier but he was quite young. Eddard reckoned that he had not yet seen twenty name-days if that.

"You are in Winterfell. I am Eddard Stark. What is your name?" he asked.

When the intruder looked him in the eye, Eddard was taken aback though he hid it well. There was something in that gaze, something beyond the unusual colour that unnerved him. It seemed a long time though it was but a few seconds before the intruder answered.

"My name is Harry Potter."

Near the end of Harry's discussion with Dumbledore at King's cross..

"I can't promise anything but there is a chance that if you return Voldemort will be gone for good."

Dumbledore meant to continue but he was cut off by a voice that seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, booming from the expanse around them. It was not one voice but a multitude of voices speaking as one.

HE CAN'T BUT WE CAN.

Harry and Dumbledore looked around turning this way and that trying to find the source.

"Who are you?" Dumbldore asked, his fists clenching as if they were holding a wand. When the voices answered it was in a normal tone as if someone was standing just next to them thought it was still composed of a multitude.

We are the spirits of the forest and the trees, of the rocks and the streams, of the ponds and the oceans, of all of existence. We are the spirits that support all that has lived and all that is living and all that will come to be. We are the source of magic. You would worship us as gods and we are that too and so much more.

"You say that you support life. If that is true and if you can ensure that Voldemort dies then why haven't you killed him already?" Harry asked. Dumbledore turned towards him his face showing alarm and fear.

Don't fear Dumbledore. It is a valid question. Once a world is created, too much interference from us can throw things out of balance. That is the nature of things and that we cannot control. Our powers are also limited by your belief in us…the wizarding world has long forgotten its roots…while we could force our power onto them; it would do more harm than good. But we have not been idle…when your mother sacrificed her life out of love- it was great enough that we could intervene to save your life.

"What of the prophecy? Did you cause that too?"

There was a long moment of silence before the voices answered and they seemed sad.

Yes. That was our doing. Voldemort had violated nature to gain that which was not his to gain. He needed to be stopped. We only set in motion that which would lead to his downfall.

"Then you were the cause of the death of my parents."

The circumstances that led to their death were not of our doing but of the choices of many- Sirius and Pettigrew and Snape and Voldemort. Your parents made their own choice to sacrifice their lives for you- you demean that sacrifice if you hold us responsible. The prophecy merely stated that you would bring about Voldemort's end, how it happened depended on the choices humanity made. Just like there is a choice before you now.

Harry wanted to argue further but Dumbledore's laid his hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

"Remember the conversation we had in my office Harry. We are responsible for our own choices. The prophecy only set the destination the path is decided by our choices. It is quite possible that if Voldemort had not been able to attack that night at Halloween, you would have been brought up with the knowledge that Voldemort was to be defeated at your hands and trained accordingly. While he would still have been defeated eventually, think of all the lives that would have been lost had he been able to wreak havoc in all those years that he had been defeated."

Dumbledore is right. The choices of humanity were always yours to make, we can only give you nudges in the right direction.

Harry decided that it was pointless to argue further on this.

"What are my choices?"

You can choose to go back hoping that you can defeat Voldemort and there will be no need for us to interfere. Since you will be alive the protection provided by you death will be significantly weaker and there is a chance of lives still being lost.

You can go on and your life will have been sacrificed. In that case Voldemort will be unable to harm anyone at Hogwarts. His death eaters will also be affected by the sacrifice but to a smaller extent. Voldemort himself could die or he could escape to fight another day.

The last choice is the one we hope you make. We will kill Voldemort and all his death eaters will lose their magic. In return you shall dedicate the remaining years of your life to us to be served in another world where there is need of your talents.

"Will I have to fight in this world?"

Not immediately but eventually you will. Your primary role however will be as a guide to our chosen family, one who with your help can bring about great change. You will have nearly two decades of peace before matters come to a head but make no mistake your actions could save countless lives and change the destiny of this world.

"Why choose me, why not someone from there?"

We are influenced by the belief that people have in us. Long ago our followers called upon us to aid them in a war. We did so shattering the earth for them to protect them. They called upon us again and the sea rose with our power. However, this interference cost us. Nature was not meant to war and we were not meant to act directly in the affairs of humans- only support and guide. This act of destruction influenced us and caused a part of us to splinter. In time as the wars grew this part gained strength and took physical form something that is anathema to us and took it beyond our powers. It waged war upon humanity but with our aid and magic humanity stopped it. For millennia this power has slumbered but now it is in motion again and our followers are limited thus limiting our powers and influence. We can't interfere directly so we ask you to do it for us.

You ask why it must be you. It is because you have mastered the Hallows. They are the symbol of Death, of the end, a power that is greater than us. You hold a small fraction of that power. Within you is also the gift of life as granted to you by the phoenix and your mother. With your aid the part that splintered from us can be finally unmade. In time it shall reform in the way it was meant to be without the impulse for destruction. Such a task is beyond anyone of this world. Without you the cycle will keep repeating until such time that humanity here is destroyed only then with absence of war will The Other lose power.

Harry understood then why they were so wary of interfering directly if the last time they did so it resulted in the formation of a vengeful rogue god.

"If your interference can cause so much strife, how can you be sure that killing Voldemort will not cause more of that in my world?"

Voldemort has violated the gift of life and choice that he had been given by sundering his soul. In this matter we have a lot of freedom. At this moment his soul tied as it is to yours is within our grasp as both of you lie in a forest where we are strongest and you being here means we don't have to interfere in the physical real. He has also angered Death and for this one instance it has allowed our interference especially since if you agree the matter of the Hallows can finally be laid to rest.

Harry looked at Dumbledore seeking advice.

"This is not for me to decide Harry. This choice is yours to make."

Harry thought to the choices he had been given. He could go back or move on, in either case there was a very good chance of Voldemort being defeated but there was also a chance of more people dying. He thought of those that had already died…could he live with the thought that more could die when he could have prevented it.

And then there was the other world to consider. While he held no responsibility to the people there, they were being punished for something their ancestors had done. Could he let them live it out knowing that he could have saved countless lives and prevented a lot of suffering? Hermione had always accused him of having a saving people thing. Perhaps she was more right than she knew.

"Will I ever see my friends again?"

You will though not for some time yet.

He knew that his friends would be heartbroken but he could not take the risk of them dying. Ginny…she would move on. She was strong that way, nothing could stop her. He only hope that when they met next they would forgive him. His decision was made.

"Then I choose the third option. I will go there and do what I can though I don't know how much of a guide I can be?"

Thank you, Harry Potter. You will be a good one if you stay true to your heart. That is all that is required of you. To aid you in your quest and for your selflessness- the power of the Hallows will be yours to command as will the fires of the phoenix whose tears run in your veins. With the resurrection stone you can call upon the ghosts of those you have known personally in this world to aid you with your powers.

Do not worry for your friends. Voldemort and his followers will be taken care of. Your sacrifice will protect those you have left behind for a long time, time enough for them to establish peace and a good life for themselves.

Harry was grateful for that as it was not a part of their deal. He turned to Dumbledore wanting to say good bye to the one person he could and ask a favour but Dumbledore already knew what he was going to ask.

"Yes Harry you can call upon me whenever you wish. I am sure that your parents and their friends too will be willing to aid you. I am proud of you Harry as I am sure they will be."

His eyes were shining and their characteristic twinkling was dimmed. Not knowing what else to do, Harry rushed up to him and threw his arms around him. A few tears escaped his eyes thinking of his friends. He would miss them.

"You are leaving much behind Harry but a new life awaits you. Do not let your responsibilities bog you down, live life to the fullest."

Harry composed himself.

"I am ready."

As the mist descended around him Harry could hear the voice speaking to him.

Good luck Harry Potter. The family you must aid are the Starks of Winterfell as they shall lead the charge against the enemy. Look to the far North for the Enemy for he brings with him ice and cold and death. Combat him with fire and all that is born from it. But remember while there is only one true enemy he is not the only one you must guard against. When you need aid come to the gods wood and you shall find all that you need. You are not alone in your task; there are others who shall aid you. Accept their help else all is lost.

In the godswood of Winterfell…

Harry woke up in pain. He was lying on the forest floor, his chest was throbbing something fierce where the killing curse had hit him and there was a dull pain in his arms too. He hadn't noticed but he must have taken a glancing hit from a cutting curse during the battle. But his most pressing problem was that he was naked and the weather was freezing.

Somehow he managed to sit up, gasping as the wound on his chest sent pain shooting through his body. The first thing he did was cast a warming charm. Letting out a sigh of relief he looked down. The wound from the killing curse was bleeding, he cast a spell to slow it down, thank Hermione for that. It was shaped like a lightning bolt- the gods could atleast have healed him before sending him here, wherever here was.

He needed to find the Starks but first he needed some help. What he had done was the extent of his healing skills and though the bleeding had slowed it hadn't stopped. He looked around. His first guess had been wrong, though he was surrounded by trees he was not in a forest. He could make out the top of a castle from amongst the foliage. The trees were tall but separated by enough distance that he could see past them. Deciding that going there would be the best he could do at the moment- he tried to stand up. He couldn't. Not without help. He put his hand on a nearby tree for support and pulled himself up.

It took some time but he was finally able to get his feet under him though the wound on his chest was starting to hurt a lot. He felt lightheaded but there was nothing to be done for it. If he stayed here he would die and considering that he had not fulfilled his part of the bargain he didn't know what would happen. He couldn't go to the castle naked so he conjured some basic clothes over his body. The magic seemed to come very easily. It was only then that he realised that the wand he was holding was not his. In fact it was not a wand at all but a simple ordinary stick unshaped in any way. He had done all that without a wand and had not even noticed. He filed that away for later- it may have something to do with him having the power of the Hallows and some such. He had more pressing concerns for the moment.

Pushing off the tree he staggered. Walking was hard, the killing curse had wreaked much more damage than he thought. He felt weak. Taking the support of nearby trees he walked forwards and into a clearing. He was so focused on not falling or fainting that didn't notice the man standing near the immense tree. He did hear the sound of metal sliding against something and his voice.

"Identify yourself."

He looked up. For a moment he thought it was Sirius, with the long hair and tall frame but it passed. It was a man in medieval armour standing with sword drawn looking at him warily.

"Where a..", a shooting pain shot through his chest and before he knew it he was on the ground. He was somewhat aware of the things around him, of footsteps and voices but he couldn't focus on anything. He felt arms on his legs and shoulders and as they picked him up, the wound in his chest throbbed again and all he knew was darkness.

When he came to next he was on a warm bed and covered. He could feel that his wounds were covered for which he was grateful. He could also hear voices from nearby. As he struggled to sit up and open his eyes he let out an unconscious groan that caught the attention of others in the room.

He opened his eyes and found himself in small room. The man who he had first seen was there along with two other people. The room itself was cosy, there was a fire crackling in a small fireplace nearby. He focused on the people.

"Whe..". His voice came out scratchy. He cleared his throat. "Where am I?"

"You are in Winterfell. I am Eddard Stark. What is your name?"

Harry kept his features expressionless. So this was who he had to aid, at least he didn't have to search for him now. Looking into his eyes Harry was curious about what kind of person he was. Almost immediately he got an answer. He could suddenly feel his emotions. There was a sense of wariness, fear for his family. As soon as he realised what was happening Harry broke off the connection. Thankfully it didn't seem like much time had passed and Eddard had not realised what had happened. Harry was thankful for that. It would have made things a lot more difficult if he had. Nevertheless the easy with which he had performed legilimency unnerved him. He would have to take the time soon to test his magic and limits. It seemed that much had changed. For now he needed to answer.

"My name is Harry Potter."

A/N: I might (a very big might) write another chapter around the time of the Kings visit to Winterfell. I have some ideas for it but don't hold your breath. For all practical purposes consider this story done.