Authors Note: Being a huge nerd, I sometimes think of what would happen if my favorite fantasy stories somehow came together. In this case, the worlds of Harry Potter and A Song of Ice and Fire collide. This is a story I've kind of got all planned out in my head, and I decided maybe I should write it down and see if other people might be interested in it as well. So please, read and review. If there's interest in the story, I'll got ahead and keep writing. If not, that's okay too. I'll just keep it to myself. Oh, and none of these characters are of my own creation. Obviously.
Prologue
Professor Minerva McGonagall sat on all fours on the uncomfortable pavement in front of an iron gate. Sitting on all fours may seem like an odd thing for a woman of McGonagall's age to do, but she didn't let that deter her. McGonagall had a strong mind and stronger will, and she could not care less if someone thought her habits peculiar. Of course, the average passerby would likely not think twice about McGonagall's current state. This is because McGonagall was currently a cat.
She'd devoted many years of research and training to become an Animagus. And what do I have to show for it? she thought. A sore ass and a powerful urge to lick myself.
Sitting on all fours, even for a short period of time, was incredibly uncomfortable. McGonagall came to this unfortunate realization soon after she registered as an Animagus with the ministry. Other cats – that is, cats that weren't actually witches in disguise – didn't seem to have the same problem with discomfort. But other cats were always rolling around on their backs, exposing their privates to whomever wished to see. They may have been more comfortable than she, but that's just because they were mindless animals without shame. McGonagall refused to stoop to their level.
Discomfort is a small price to pay for dignity. She cared little what others thought of her, but she still knew the importance of appearing respectable. Even as a cat, one should always be on one's best behavior. One never knows who might be watching.
"Why Professor McGonagall," said the voice of Albus Dumbledore, who suddenly appeared directly in front of her, "what brings you to my cozy little village?"
Finally. She quickly and efficiently transformed back into her human form, careful to keep her glasses on straight.
"How did you know it was me?" she asked.
"My dear professor, must we always play this game? Any cat whose tongue is not somewhere in the vicinity of its own asshole is a rare sight indeed."
"You have such an eloquent way of putting things, professor," McGonagall responded dryly.
"I see no need to censor myself when there are no children present. You should try loosening up a little. The world is a marvelous place, and this is a glorious night. Why, you should be off celebrating!"
"Oh, I think everyone else is doing quite enough celebrating. Have you seen what people are doing? The Muggles are starting to notice. I mean, how can they not, with every witch and wizard in all of Britain all but wearing signs around their necks that say 'I can do magic! Please feel free to burn me at the stake!'"
"McGonagall, I would've thought you were above perpetuating such an outdated stereotype about Muggle cruelty. And for heaven's sake, one night of debauchery and carelessness is not going to expose us to the entire world."
"Maybe not. But a little discretion certainly couldn't hurt." And a little caution. If the rumors she'd heard were true…
"Well, I suppose you have a point there. But there's really not much we can do about it. After all, it isn't every day a dark wizard is defeated and the doorway to another world opens up!"
So he was telling the truth. McGonagall had received the information second hand from an eccentric green-cloaked wizard she'd run into on the street. He'd told her He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named had opened a doorway to another world… a doorway from which he'd never returned. He'd committed a terrible atrocity over there, murdering almost an entire village worth of people. And then… something had gone wrong. There was no reason for it, no logical explanation. Yet the Dark Lord had met something that even he could not face. Whatever it was had destroyed him.
"How do we know he's really gone?" she asked Dumbledore.
"Oh, I'm fairly certain he's not gone. At least not gone forever. I am, however, quite confident that he is gone for now. We can only hope for a very long time. What is important, Minerva, is that he is defeated. Of that I am certain, for I have seen the evidence of it myself. For the time being, we are safe from Voledmort's attacks."
I wish he wouldn't use his name. "But even if he is gone, he left the hole to that other world wide open!"
Dumbledore sighed. "Yes, there is the matter of the gaping doorway. Voldemort himself ripped it open, ripping the very fabric of space. With that kind of dark magic in play, I do not believe our chances of closing it again are very good. Luckily, it is on Hogwarts grounds, so we have no need to worry about hiding it from Muggles. What we do need to consider is how best to deal with those living in the world on the other side."
"So there really are people over there?" The thought of an entire world, before now completely unknown to them, existing on the other side of a magic doorway was enough to make her head spin. And I can turn into a cat. Imagine how your average run-of-the-mill witch would take this.
"Oh yes," Dumbledore responded, a curious gleam in his eye. "Although exactly what kind of people I know not. From what little I have been able to view of their world, (and this was mostly just in passing as I traveled quickly across the land to confirm news of Voldemort's defeat), it appears they live in some sort of medieval society. However, they speak a language that, from what I could discern, closely resembles modern English, albeit with a few antiquated phrasings thrown in. I'm not sure if they are aware of magic, or how they would react to those who use it. The people themselves seem nice enough, though."
You do always try to find the best in people McGonagall thought. They'd likely have a wand at your throat before you admitted they might not be the nicest person you've met. She did not voice this particular concern, however. Instead, she voiced another: "Have you been able to keep the curious at bay?"
Dumbledore laughed. "I tried, McGonagall. I made an honest attempt. But curiosity is a powerful thing. I could no more stop the curious people from rushing through the doorway than I could return from the dead. Hell, Mundungus Fletcher rushed through so quickly he nearly knocked my glasses off. No doubt off to be the first to make business connections with a completely unknown group of people."
Knowing you, returning from the dead is probably not entirely outside your abilities. "You know you could have stopped them if you'd wanted to. You just chose to let them through." Dumbledore smiled.
"You know me too well, professor. Yes, curiosity got the best of me, and I decided to let others satisfy theirs. But I see no harm in a little exploration. After all, no progress can be made without some risk. And who knows? The inhabitants of this new world may one day prove to be important allies. I do not doubt that we can learn a lot from them, and them from us."
McGonagall pursued her lips to convey her disapproval, but Dumbledore appeared blissfully unaware. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small yellow candy, which he tossed into his open mouth.
"How can you be treating this whole situation so casually?" she asked him, with a little more frustration in her voice than she'd intended. Dumbledore took notice of her change in tone. He cracked the candy between his teeth and swallowed before answering.
"I apologize McGonagall. Of course, there are dangers. I am well aware of them. Are those dangers large enough to warrant an outright panic? I do not believe so. But I wish to quell what fears you may have and assure you that steps are being taken to ensure the safety of our world as well as the one to which we have now become connected."
"And what of the people living in that other world? Can we be certain our interactions with them will be peaceful?"
"As for that, McGonagall, we can only hope. In fact, I feared what the citizens of this foreign world may have done if they discovered Voldemort traveled to their land and killed so many of their own. This would most certainly put our world in jeopardy. After taking stock of what happened, I made sure the people of this world will never know the truth about what happened."
Lying to an entire nation of people. That's a great precedent for future relations. "And how, professor, do you plan on maintaining this secret?"
Dumbledore gave her an uncharacteristically sheepish look. "After confirming Voldemort's defeat, I altered the scene to make it appear as if the deaths from his massacre resulted from a fire."
McGonagall gasped. Does he really think he can get away with this? "Professor Dumbledore, as witches and wizards we have a responsibility to protect others! We cannot use manipulate others in ways which suit our needs."
"I know!" Dumbledore shouted. "But something had to be done. I had no time to have a moral debate with myself. Yes, it is horrible to cover up the truth of such an incident, but had I not done so we may have faced the retaliation of a vengeful nation. Honoring those who died by telling the truth is not worth our lives, professor, and I stand by what I did."
Of course he's right. But it still seems like the wrong way to go about it. "So can I assume, since your plan demands a consistent support for the lie you created, that there were no surviving witnesses to the incident?"
"Actually," said Dumbledore. "There were three." At that moment, a loud rumbling noise filled the sky. Hagrid, on his flying motorcycle, descended quickly and landed with a crash on the street in front of them. In the sidecar, McGonagall could see a small bundle. Inside was something that looked like…
"A child?" McGonagall asked, bewildered. Why did he bring a child? "What's going on?" Hagrid got off of his motorcycle and gently lifted the child from the sidecar.
"You may have heard rumors of Voldemort's defeat," said Dumbledore. "As much as I tried to keep the word from spreading, gossip travels far quicker than broomstick or even apparation allows. I do believe, however, that I have been able to keep at least this one secret under wraps."
"And what secret would that be, professor?" McGonagall asked, still not quite sure what was going on.
"Voldemort's defeat was no accident. I don't know how, but as he killed his way through this new world, he met someone he could not defeat. In fact, his inability to defeat that person in essence ripped apart everything he was."
"I don't understand." Is he purposefully being cryptic?"
"Nor do I. At least… not entirely. But I do know that this child is one of three who survived Voldemort's attack. He tried to kill these children, and was unsuccessful. But I believe it was this one who he was truly after." He pointed to the child's forehead, and McGongall could clearly see a lightning bolt shaped scar. He intended to kill this one. But that didn't make sense. Why was he unable to kill an infant, when powerful witches and wizards had been no match for him?
"I did just what you told me to, professor," said Hagrid. "I took the boy to the Longbottoms, and the girl to the Weasleys."
"Thank you, Hagrid. Did you have any trouble?"
"No, sir. I told 'em just what you told me to tell 'em. I still don't know what this is all about, though. If these children are kin, why are we splittin' 'em up?"
"For their own safety, Hagrid," Dumbledore responded. "I modified the memories of the children so they will believe the families that have so graciously agreed to take them in are the only family they have ever known. If they knew the truth it could be dangerous not only for us, but for them as well."
"Surely altering young minds and splitting apart families is not necessary to ensure safety?' McGonagall protested. "If Voldemort is truly defeated, what would these children have to fear?"
"We never know when Voldemort may return, I'm afraid," said Dumbledore. "And when he does, the first thing he will do is to complete what he failed to do the first time. The child, if you please, Hagrid." Hagrid handed the bundle over to Dumbledore. "McGonagall, I would much appreciate it if you'd accompany me. Hagrid, you can come as well if you'd like."
They made their way through the gate and to the front door. McGonagall glanced at Dumbledore, who nodded at her. With that, she knocked loudly.
The door swung open. A lovely women with red hair stood on the other side. She was soon joined by a handsome man with glasses.
"Hello Lily," Dumbledore said, smiling. "James, good to see you as well." He speaks as if this were a social visit.
"Hello," said Lily. "Dumbledore, we just received your letter a couple of hours ago, and there was so much, this is all so sudden, I don't know if…"
"I understand it is a lot to ask," said Dumbledore. "But I need not remind you that had things played out a bit differently, it could have been your own son in danger of Voldemort's wrath." Lily and James both flinched. Because he used the Dark Lord's name, or because of the thought of their son being in danger?
"We understand," said James, putting a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder. Lily looked close to tears. "But like Lily said, there's just so much about what happened we don't understand. How can we explain –"
"Oh, I think it best you do not explain anything," said Dumbledore. This child is to be raised as your own. From this moment onward, Lily and James Potter have two children. Two natural children. I trust you are capable of managing this."
"Yes," said Lily. "Yes, of course we can. But you really cannot tell us anything? Not even… well, can we at least know the name?"
"Arya. Her name is Arya. And that is all you should know, if you want to keep her safe."
He really thinks this is the only way. McGonagall fought back tears. The child – Arya – would grow up living a lie. Lily and James would undoubtedly be great parents. But to keep such a secret from a child… was safety truly worth such a cost? Dumbledore glanced in her direction, and seemed to understand her concerns.
"This is a sad, yet necessary thing we are doing," Dumbldore said. "The child will not know any better, and will live a happy life. A life which, had we not taken this action, may have been in great risk."
"But will she really know nothing of her importance?" said McGonagall. "This child… she is the one who defeated He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!"
"And that is a fact that will be kept between the five of us." He glanced to Hagrid, Lily, James, and McGonagall in turn. "But among us, we shall remember the great gift this child has given us. Arya… the girl who lived!"