Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Game of Thrones

Chapter 1

Spring in Westeros was beautiful, flowers bloomed all over the countryside and the animals emerged from their dens and nests with their new families. Tonight, however the skies darkened and let loose an unforgiving storm.

These clouds were dark and full of terrors. The crack of thunder could be heard for miles and it accompanying lightning was harsh, streaking through the night sky, splitting trees in half while the rain came down in heavy torrential sheets.

There was only one sound that could be heard over the storm, the cries of a woman in pain.

Within a small cottage in a small village near the outskirts of Lannisport lay a woman, dark of hair and pale skin that gleamed with sweat. Her white gown was soaked through as her hand gripped that of a much smaller man. He had golden locks with bright green eyes. He grasped one of her hands in both of his as he looked at her with concern.

"You're doing great my love," he said to her, his voice trembling ever so slightly. He tried to ignore the bustle of the maester at the bottom of the bed where his wife's legs were bent up and spread wide open. The maester was ordering around a much younger boy, an apprentice who was running around grabbing water, clothes and herbs.

"Push Tysha, you can do this my love," he repeated, "She's almost here, just hold on a little longer."

Tysha grunted in response, she could feel her babe breaching through her opening, she would only need to push a little more before her beloved daughter would make her entrance into this world.

Along with the overwhelming happiness also came fear and a sense of defeat. She didn't need to see the maesters face or the bedsheets to know she had lost too much blood.

She wasn't going to live to see the morrow, but she would be damned if her babe didn't make it. She knew in her soul that her child would have a long and happy life, destined to do great things, oh she would be great. She swore that all the kingdoms would come to know her child.

The thunder and rain continued to roar outside, and they could feel the house shake a little from the severe winds.

"I will not make it my beloved," she whispered tiredly, "You must promise me, that you will take care of her, your father cannot have her."

She had never feared anything or anyone in her life, she had been through too much, as was expected of the life of a common whore. She had never feared anyone except her beloved's father, Tywin Lannister. They had gotten married in secret by a drunk Septon and all it had taken was for him to sober up and go running to the Lord Lannister.

Not two weeks later he was barging into their home, the small cottage they currently resided in. It was the single most terrifying moment of her life.

"You dare tarnish our name by marrying a filthy whore," he thundered as a few of his guards entered the room.

Tyrion was on his feet in an instance. Small though he was, a dwarf and half the reason his father hated him, he was also incredibly smart and brave. The traits of a real lion.

"She is my wife and you will not speak to her in such a way," he demanded. Being of only six and ten he didn't have a leg to stand on if they should decide to kill her, but he loved her, and he would do whatever he could to protect her.

"I will speak however I so please Tyrion," Tywin sneered as he looked at the woman sitting near the fireplace. She had long dark hair, pale skin and violet eyes.

He knew those eyes.

"A common whore," Tywin mused as he stepped closer to the woman. Tyrion tried to step in between them but his father simply pushed him aside to be held back by his guards.

The woman closed her eyes in fear as Tywin grasped her chin. He yanked her up to a standing position and tilted her head up.

"Open your eyes woman," he ordered and with a small whimper she did as he asked. The startling violet starred back at him in terror, her body trembling. He let a small smirk grace his features.

"Not exactly a commoner then but still a whore," he chuckled. He let her go where she fell back into her chair with a quiet sob.

"Father?" Tyrion asked warily as his father made his way back to him and dismissed his guards.

"Did you honestly think you could hide her linage from me?" he asked, "She may be dark of hair but the rest of her is Targaryen. I ordered the murder of Elia Martell and her children and allied with Robert Baratheon to end the Targaryen line. Tell me son why should I not kill this one right now?"

Tyrion knew his father was mocking him. Trying to get a rise out of him so that he would slip up and allow him the chance to kill his beloved before his very eyes.

"Two Targaryen's got away didn't they?" he said quickly, "If one day they decide to come back and take the Iron Throne we can always use her as a bargaining chip to deter them. A hostage situation if you will."

"And if she ever births children?"

"Then it would be all the more in our favour. I highly doubt the two remaining dragons will want to lose even one more of their kind let alone multiple," he scrambled, "They would want their Dynasty back even if that included a half breed."

"And if they should try to take the throne?"

"We would raise them as Lannister's, never let them know of my lineage," Tysha said quietly from behind the two men, "They would not be a threat my Lord I swear, they will be lions and lions alone."

"They will never amount to anything," Tywin grinned evilly, "They may be Lannister in name but they will never claim the title of Lord of Casterly Rock and if you have daughters they will be lucky to wed a bastard."

"I would accept that," Tyrion said quickly as he stood beside his wife, "I know I can never claim that title and neither can my children."

"And should Robert find out who she is?"

"He won't, he will never meet her, he has no need to. The war is barely over and he has much to do now as King, too much to bother with the child of a Dwarf."

Tywin regarded his youngest and most disappointing child of them all, he didn't see why he got to live happy when he tore his mother from this world and brought shame to his house by being a half-man monstrosity but something else sparked in his mind.

"I will leave you alone in marital bliss," Tywin finally stated leaving both Tyrion and Tysha shocked, "But mark my words Tyrion, any child of yours will be just like you, it will rip the mother from this world and you will hate it just as much as I hate you for killing your own mother. That would be much more satisfying that simply killing her myself, I will let you and your devil spawn do it for me."

He left the small cottage after that thinking he had won and would someday see the dwarf wallow in his misery, he may even kill himself and drown the child he thought gleefully.

He was so wrapped up in his horrid thoughts that he never saw the hate and determination in his son's eyes.

Tyrion would be damned if he ever turned out like his father, he would love his child no matter what. He would raise a new type of Lannister; brave, smart and fierce to the core, a real lion.

"Never," he promised, "I would rather kill him then let anyone put a hand on her. We will take care of her together."

Tyrion was grasping at straws, he knew his father's words were coming true, his wife was dying from childbirth. He knew it, she knew it, but he had to be strong.

"Her name, she will be my little Hermione, after the woman who raised me, Hermione Lannister," Tysha gasped after letting out another push. The storm seemed to be coming to a high, the winds rattled the doors and the fireplace seemed to roar to life.

"Of course," the Tyrion choked out, "But I need you to push my dear or you will both perish."

Tysha gave her husband a tired but loving smile, she would push for the sake of their child, for their daughter for she could not be convinced it was a boy. The maester gave her the order to push one more time and push she did, with every fibre of her being. The pain was overwhelming but when she heard the first cry of her daughter she instantly relaxed, feeling utterly joyful, relieved and free.

"My baby," she whispered as the maester took her away to be cleaned, "Tyrion, my love."

"I'm here," he said as he moved further up towards her head. The storm outside was dying down, the doors ceased their rattling and the fireplace calmed down to nothing but embers, the only light coming from the lanterns and few candles placed around the room

"I told your father she would be a lion and only a lion," she started, "I lied. She will be a lion but she will also be a dragon, please let her know of her heritage but don't let the madness take over. Our baby is destined for greatness, I just know it."

"Quiet my love," Tyrion warned as he glanced at the two men in the room, "I will do as you ask."

"I'm fading," she sighed as she closed her eyes, "I love you."

"I love you too, you can let go now," Tyrion replied as tears slowly dripped down his face. He could feel Tysha's hand slowly become limp in his own as the Maester returned to the bedside.

"I am terribly sorry my Lord, nothing we did could have saved her I'm afraid," he said solemnly, "But you have one strong babe."

Tyron lifted his head and shakily raised his arms as his daughter was handed over to him. The Maesters decided to give him the room for a few minutes, to leave the man in peace while he celebrated the birth of his daughter and mourn the loss of his wife.

"My little Hermione, my little dragon in disguise," he whispered, "I don't care if I have to face an army of the dead men or the gods themselves, I will always protect you."