Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling, A Song of Ice and Fire to George R.R. Martin, I don't own anything and I'm just playing around with these wonderful characters of these great stories.

Author's Note: A long chapter again and I had to move the last part of this chapter into the next one. So we'll see Casterly Rock and all the other characters next time. And thanks for the reviews, it's really much appreciated. :)


The Serpent and the Lion

~Chapter 7: Gathering of the Great Houses~

Harry and his small group were accompanied by two members of the Order of the Phoenix, his godfather Sirius Black and Professor Remus Lupin. At first they had recommended Albus Dumbledore. As the founder of the Order he had been their first choice to lead this gathering. However the headmaster of Hogwarts excused himself for his absence, telling them he had important work to do. So it fell to Sirius and Remus to represent the Order and its members. Tyrion had advised them to involve as few people as possible. This conference had to be kept a secret. Not only because of Lord Voldemort but also because of the Ministry of Magic. Minister Fudge would probably want to arrange this meeting in public and Tyrion couldn't allow that to happen.

Harry had agreed and he also believed it was better this way. After Cedric Diggory's death the Ministry still doubted Voldemort's return. Why should Fudge join a conference concerning the Dark Lord if he didn't accept the rumours as true?

As Harry descended the stairs and walked through the hallway of 12 Grimmauld Place he felt his jaw drop. It was as if he had stepped into another world. There were colourful banners all over the place. Heavy yellow curtains and beautiful decoration had turned the whole hall gold and silver. There were guards and knights from several houses standing alongside both sides of the walls, guarding the meeting room's entrance. They all looked stunning in their shining armour and flowing cloaks, showing their respective house-colours. It was a sight that took your breath away. Harry glimpsed his two friends who were equally fascinated and in awe as he was. Thanks to his studies he knew the banners which were displayed here. He was able to discern between them, recognizing the colours and sigils of the different houses.

The banner he spotted the first and which had been the easiest to identify was the one of House Lannister. A golden lion on a field of crimson red. He also recognized the sigil of House Martell, an orange banner revealing a red sun pierced by a gold spear. And just behind that banner was the sigil of House Tyrell, a gold rose on a green banner. But there was also a banner he couldn't classify. It showed a stag enclosed within a red heart surrounded by a blaze of orange fire on a field of yellow.

He gave Tyrion a questioning look, pointing at the banner with the stag and the red heart. "Do you know which banner this is?"

Tyrion followed his gaze. "Ah, that must be the banner of Stannis Baratheon. But I don't know why he changed his sigil. A heart on fire is rather odd."

"I wonder why there are no representatives of the other great houses. The Starks, the Arryns and the Greyjoys are absent." Harry observed.

"It's understandable why the Starks preferred not to leave and continue to freeze at their cold castle in Winterfell. The oldest Stark daughter, Sansa Stark is betrothed to my beloved nephew Joffrey. They would risk Lord Tywin's anger if they would join the conference of the enemy. Lord Eddard Stark may have a lot of snow in his ears, nevertheless he was wise enough not to come here. As for the Arryns... Well, Lady Arryn is a craven woman and after the death of her lord husband she has never left the Eyrie again. But trust me, you wouldn't miss her, she is...", Tyrion turned to Bronn as if he was searching for the right words to describe her. "How would you call it, my friend?"

"Complicated, mad, insane, sadistic, hysterical and more." Bronn specified flatly.

"Ah yes. But you forgot to add her tendency to throw people out of the moon door to your list, Bronn." The dwarf corrected him with a grin.

The sellsword rolled his eyes. "Oh, yeah. That too."

"What is a moon door?" Harry asked them.

Tyrion and Bronn both looked at each other for a moment and all of a sudden Tyrion's expression turned serious. "Trust me, Harry. You don't want to know."

"Ok." The young wizard gulped and decided to ask him about the Greyjoys. "And what about House Greyjoy?"

"The kraken? I somehow anticipated they might stay away from here. As long as this war doesn't take place at sea, Balon Greyjoy simply doesn't care about it. No matter, Harry. We have guests from four Great Houses and that in itself is quite remarkable. If you would've asked me some days ago I would have guessed no one would attend. So you see, your name alone was enough to summon them. You should feel proud and honoured." Tyrion explained and his godfather Sirius Black nodded, giving him an encouraging smile. "He's right, Harry. These lords and ladies were curious about you and that is probably the main reason for their arrival. You should try to use your name to your advantage."

Before they could discuss this any further they were greeted by a middle-aged man. Harry guessed he was in his early fifties and judging by the look of his armour, this had to be Tyrion's uncle, Kevan Lannister. It was a scaled crimson armour decorated with a golden lion emblem on both shoulders.

"Uncle,", Tyrion welcomed him, "What a pleasure to find you here."

"Tyrion." The man with short grey hair said, his green eyes studying him warily.

"So, what brings you here?" Tyrion asked.

"Your father. He wonders what you're trying to accomplish here." Kevan replied.

Tyrion smiled. "You know, there are often times I am wondering that myself."

His uncle folded his arms and stared at him. "Please Tyrion. I'm serious. This is not the right time for your japes."

"Do you hear me laughing, uncle? Believe me, I am perfectly serious. I only try to assist my young friend here. To help him in any small way I can." And with this he gestured to Harry, turning his uncle's attention to him now.

"May I present the Boy-Who-Lived, the so-called Chosen One, Harry James Potter." Tyrion announced joyfully and Harry instantly shifted his weight from one leg to the other, feeling slightly uneasy in the older man's presence.

But to his surprise the grave expression on Kevan's face changed to a warm, kindly smile. "Harry Potter. I didn't know you were still so young. You must be the same age as my son Lancel."

"I'm sixteen, ser."

"Sixteen... ", he murmured in a thoughtful tone. "So young... It must be hard to carry such a heavy burden on your shoulders. I have to admit I admire your courage, young man."

Harry gave the old man a curt bow. "Thank you, ser."

Kevan's eyes returned to his nephew. "I'm not here to disturb this conference, Tyrion. I shall not participate and only observe your meeting from a respectable distance."

"Very well, feel free to take a seat and watch the spectacle." The little lord wanted to go to the meeting room's entrance but he paused and turned around to face his uncle again. "Are there any news of my beloved siblings, uncle? I may not love my sweet sister much but she and Jaime are still my family."

Kevan gave his nephew an anxious look. "Haven't you heard? Your brother is being held captive at Malfoy Manor and Cersei is Voldemort's hostage too. And what's worse he has also given her his Dark Mark. She is a Death Eater now."

Harry and his friends exchanged worried glances while he heard Sirius and Remus whispering behind him. These were indeed unexpected news. Harry knew well how Tyrion felt about his family. Although he disliked them they still meant everything to him. In some ways Harry could relate to his feelings. He hated the Dursleys with a passion and there were times where he wished he wouldn't have to see them again. Nevertheless they were part of his family and he wouldn't want them to be harmed either.

Tyrion raised his eyebrows. "Cersei a Death Eater? I'm not sure if I should laugh or cry now. On one hand she might deserve this... being in this predicament. But on the other hand...", he sighed, "Well, she's still my sister. And Jaime in a cell? He must be bored to death there. Father is probably not amused, I would say."

Kevan's green eyes glinted. "Your lord father is more than indignant about this matter. You know him better than I do. He sees Voldemort's recent actions as an insult to our family. Trust me, he won't keep still for long."

"If you need help against You-Know-Who..." Harry volunteered but Kevan shook his head. "This is our responsibility, not yours. Even so I am grateful for your offer, young Potter."

"I've told you several times. A Lannister always pays his debts, Harry. We shouldn't intervene here." Tyrion reminded him and walked forward as the first one to enter the room.

This is it. You can do this, Harry! The young wizard took one deep breath and exhaled slowly. Ron clapped his back. "We're with you, mate."

Hermione nodded. "Ron is right. We're all here, you're not alone."

IiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiIiI

They all entered the Order's meeting room together and stopped as they felt all pairs of eyes turning to them. Their guests were standing in little groups, every family intent on keeping to themselves. Each one of them looked very impressive in their extraordinary attire, all dressed in their finest silk and velvet.

The first one who approached them was a Tyrell knight. He was still young, Harry guessed they were maybe at the same age. Ser Loras Tyrell. Harry knew from his studies that he was the youngest Tyrell son and that he was known as the knight of flowers. A good-looking man with brown curly hair and eyes shining like liquid gold. His armour was glittering in silver-white colours and the metal was adorned and enamelled as a bouquet of roses

Acting like a gentleman he took Hermione's hand in his and kissed it. "A rose for a rose." he spoke with a soft voice as he handed her a red rose. "Although I am afraid that even the world's most beautiful rose cannot compare to your beauty. You look lovely, my lady."

Hermione went pink and for a second Harry thought his friend was speechless. She gave him a polite nod, her hazelnut-brown eyes looking up to him. "Thank you, Ser Loras."

Ron won't like this. Harry immediately thought and glanced at his friend who looked daggers at the young knight.

Ron mimicked Loras Tyrell in a low voice, repeating 'A rose for a rose' in an exaggerated tone, his face showing a sour expression. Harry held back his laughter as Loras turned to him now, shaking his hand. "Harry Potter, it is an honour. We've heard so much about you. Come, you must meet my grandmother, the Lady Olenna. She and my sister Margaery are eager to see you."

As they followed him to the two Tyrell women, he heard Tyrion talking to him in a low voice. "Olenna Tyrell. She may look like your typical harmless, nice and kind granny but she isn't. Remember, looks can be deceiving. They don't call her the Queen of Thorns for nothing. Be careful you don't cut yourself."

"Er, yeah." Harry mumbled in response. His heartbeat was loud in his ears, beating louder and louder like a drum. But the reason was not Olenna Tyrell. He had only eyes for Loras' sister, Lady Margaery. She was divine like an angel, a heavenly goddess, an ethereal being not from this earth. Time stood still for a long wonderful moment. Everything else became blurry, only she remained clear.

Margaery was dressed in a gown of brilliant green with a golden cloak around her shoulders, emblazoned with many little roses and flowers. She slowly ran a hand through her long brown hair, her light-brown eyes shining brightly as they met his emerald ones. Harry just stood there, unmoving like a statue, frozen in place. His thoughts were running wild in his mind while his insides were writhing like snakes.

It was the same feeling he had back then when he had attempted to ask Cho Chang to go to the Yule Ball with him. He had been so pathetic that day and didn't want to repeat his foolish behaviour again. In his mind he was already searching for the right words, for a suitable and charming compliment. But there was nothing. Inside his head was a black hole, blank and empty. His nervousness grew with every passing second. He was unable to arrange his thoughts and think of something coherent.

Harry's fingers played with his glasses now and he tried to look away, acting as if he was busy cleaning his spectacles as his hand reached to his pockets for a tissue.

"Harry Potter." she called him.

What a sweet voice she has...

The young man felt incredibly hot, as if all the heat of his body was gathering in his head. My face must be as red as a tomato. He thought nervously.

"I am so pleased to meet you. May I call you Harry?" Margaery asked, her brown eyes shining with joy.

His face reddened even more and he stammered. "Er, y-yes. Harry... that's my name."

She chuckled heartily and kissed his cheek. "Ah, you're so cute, Harry."

Harry didn't know what to say, standing in front of her, bewildered and spellbound.

This must be heaven.

"Mate, introduce us. You can't just have her all for yourself, you know." Ron whispered in his ear in a sulky tone.

Harry nodded, his head moving automatically like a nodding dog. He wasn't really listening what Ron wanted from him. Truth be told he didn't even care. Unfortunately his daydream didn't last that long. He was soon thrown out of his state of intoxication as an old woman came closer to him. He could faintly hear Margaery's voice, her words sounding muffled. It sounded like she was speaking to him underwater. "May I present my grandmother, Lady Olenna Tyrell, mother of Mace Tyrell, the Lord of Highgarden."

"Don't just stand there like a frozen ice-sculpture, child. Give this old lady a kiss." The old woman demanded rather impatiently, her breath smelling like sour milk in his nose. Olenna Tyrell was petite, with her long white hair she almost looked like a small doll. The Tyrell lady wore an elegant dark green gown, very similar to Margaery's gown.

She offered him her soft-spotted hand. Harry blinked a few seconds as if he was trying to remember what the proper etiquette was. He then bent down and kissed the back of her hand hesitantly.

"Now, child. Be so kind and introduce us to your...", she eyed Tyrion and Sirius carefully, "friends."

The young wizard cleared his throat and started with Ron and Hermione. "These are my two friends Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, they are my classmates at Hogwarts."

Margaery hugged Hermione. "Hermione, we shall be sisters."

And she turned to Ron and kissed his cheek. "And it is a pleasure to meet you, Ron. Harry's friends are also our friends."

Ron managed to thank her, his face red and his hands nervously tugging at his shirt.

Lady Olenna took a closer look at Hermione's light-blue gown. "Hm, you do look exquisite, child. I compliment your fine taste."

The bushy-haired girl took a bow. "Thank you, my lady."

Olenna's mouth began to twist while she began to study Ron's clothing, shaking her head as if she felt somehow offended by this sight.

His buddy seemed embarrassed, wanting to hide beneath a rock and never come out again. Thankfully Margaery came to his aid. "Grandmother, please. Don't give him that look, what will Ron think of us?"

She gave Ron a warm smile. "You seem to favour a traditional attire, Ron. I assure you, this is nothing to be ashamed of."

"Y-yes, thank you, Lady Margaery." Ron muttered and shyly looked away again.

Her grandmother regarded Tyrion Lannister now. "The Imp. Lord Tywin's youngest son. I certainly remember you."

"Lady Olenna, it is so good to see you again." Tyrion smiled thinly and bowed in an exaggerated manner.

The old Tyrell lady sniffed and turned to Bronn. "And who might you be? The dwarf's toady? Let me guess, you must be his lordship's wet nurse."

Bronn grimaced. "The name's Bronn, m'lady. And I'm Lord Tyrion's personal bodyguard."

"Bronn here may be a gruff fellow but he's undeniably useful. And he doesn't eat much and is easy to handle." Tyrion added, showing a crooked smile while Bronn rolled his eyes. "Why, thank you dwarf."

The little Lannister lord grinned. "You're welcome, my friend."

"Ah yes, bodyguards. I have two of those myself. But I always seem to forget their names. That is why I call them Left and Right. Left and Right, say hello to our friends here." Lady Olenna waved her hand at her guards, the motion much the same way she would wave a fan.

The two Tyrell guards were very tall and muscular, wearing a grim expression on their faces. They were in stark contrast to the small grandmother, two giants standing behind a small woman. "Hello." they said in unison, looking like an odd pair of twins.

Harry was glad to see that his godfather Sirius and Remus Lupin stepped forward and introduced themselves without his help. The old lady gave Sirius an alert look. "Black? The criminal who fled from Azkaban Prison?"

"A misunderstanding, my lady. I had been thrown into Azkaban for a crime I didn't commit." Sirius made clear.

Olenna's eyes lingered on Sirius for a very long moment and turned to Harry again. "I see you believe him, child. Very well, we shall do the same."

"Remus Lupin.", she said, becoming aware of his former professor and studying him now, "I've heard you're a Defence against the Dark arts professor at Hogwarts."

"I was, my lady. I've resigned from my position." Remus explained.

"Such a loss. Well, my dear son would welcome you in Highgarden. We always need highly skilled wizards to train our children. It would be indeed a pity to waste such talent, Professor." Olenna suggested.

But Remus declined her offer. "I support the Order of the Phoenix. There's no time to work as a Professor again, I'm afraid."

Before Olenna could continue to persuade Lupin to work for her family she was interrupted by her granddaughter. "Harry, please. Promise us to visit us in France. You can also bring your friends with you. We could have so much fun together. My father has all the best singers at court and we have a boat to sail along the river if you want to. And horses, Harry. We can ride through our castle gardens. I'm sure you will love it. Once you see it you'll never want to leave again, I promise you."

"Yeah, sure. Sounds like fun." Harry murmured absent-mindedly, already thinking how it would be like to spend more time with Margaery Tyrell.

"Count me in." Ron said enthusiastically while Hermione nodded in agreement. "Me too, my lady."

Loras gave the two boys a polite smile. "I could teach you how to joust, Harry. Trust me, it is even more exciting than a magical duel."

Olenna snorted. "Why is it that you men love it so much to knock down other people with a stick? I can't think of anything more boring than that."

"You're a woman, grandmother. You can't understand this." Loras said, sounding slightly annoyed as if they already had this discussion more than just once.

"What is there to understand, son?" The Queen of Thorns asked and snorted again. "You men seem to have your heads somewhere else. Just like my late husband, the good Lord Luthor. He managed to fall off a cliff while looking up at the sky and paying no mind to his surroundings. Men, I tell you. Always daydreaming."

"Her poor husband probably fell down that cliff on purpose, I would say." Tyrion commented dryly, his voice so low that only Harry would be able to hear him.

But the wrinkled old woman gave Tyrion Lannister a toothless smile. "I may be old, little dwarf. But these old ears are not deaf yet."

"Ah, it's indeed a pleasant surprise that your hearing isn't deteriorating, Lady Olenna." Tyrion stated, not hiding the sarcasm in his voice.

Olenna Tyrell opened her mouth to retort but paused as they all heard a male voice behind them. "I was beginning to wonder if the greedy roses want to have the Chosen One all for themselves. We are also here, as you might have noticed."

From the corner of his eye Harry noticed Tyrion growing very tense and he instantly knew what this meant. It had to be someone from House Martell. It was no secret that there was no love between the Tyrells and the Martells. Tyrion had warned him to consider this and to choose his words carefully. He faced the Martell delegation now and was surprised they were only two. A man and a woman. The man was a tall and graceful figure. He wore a copper-coloured armour engraved with the sun and spear of his house, with a dark red cloak falling from his shoulders. You could see that the Martells came from the far south. His skin was tanned, burned light-brown from the African sun and his facial expression was cheerless, with eyes as dark as night and shoulder-length black hair. Beside the man stood an attractive woman clad in an elegant dark orange gown with flowing sleeves and a jewelled belt around her waist. In her black eyes flickered something as her gaze momentarily moved over Harry's body. What was it? Amusement? Curiosity? He couldn't quite say.

Tyrion addressed them. "Greetings to you, my friends. It is an honour to welcome guests from Dorne. May I inquire, are you Prince Doran Martell? I've heard you would be older."

The Dornishman shook his head. "Due to my brother's health Prince Doran didn't have the ability to attend. I am here in his stead. Prince Oberyn Martell of Dorne, as it pleases you." The Dornish prince gestured to his company. "And permit me to acquaint you with Ellaria Sand, my own paramour."

Tyrion smiled thinly, the tension didn't leave his body. No wonder, thought Harry. They both had reckoned on Doran Martell to visit them. The Lord of Sunspear was a calm, collected and thoughtful man and he had been their best choice to gain as a potential ally. Instead they now faced his younger brother Oberyn.

A man everyone called and feared as the Red Viper. Oberyn Martell was truly a sneaky snake because he favoured to fight with a poisoned spear. It was said his enemies, or rather his victims had to suffer a long period of time, his poison giving them the most painful and agonizing deaths. But that was not the primary reason why Tyrion was so worried. Oberyn was also known for his short temper and his bloodthirstiness. The Red Viper might start a war when facing the slightest hint of provocation. Harry knew they had to be very careful now, they tread dangerous ground here. Especially now where he remembered from his studies that it had been Oberyn Martell who had crippled the oldest Tyrell son during a joust. One wrong word and these two families could be at each other's throats soon. A horrible scenario which had to be avoided at any cost.

Prince Oberyn eyed Tyrion, a mocking edge in his voice. "I didn't know the great Harry Potter would choose a lord of Lannister to welcome us. The smallest of the Lannister family, to be more precise."

Harry wanted to step in, to defend his little friend. However Tyrion quickly turned his head to him, implying he wanted to deal with this man on his own. The little man straightened himself, his face showing a lop-sided grin. "I may be the smallest, my lord, yet they also call me the prettiest of my family."

"Our views regarding prettiness seem to differ greatly, Lord Tyrion." The Dornish prince said dryly.

The dwarf grinned. "Well, they say beauty is a subjective quality, is it not? I've heard you prefer blonde women. I'm sure you'd love to meet my sister Cersei, my lord."

The Martell lord chuckled lightly. "You are an amusing little creature."

"I try my best." Tyrion admitted.

"Oh yes, I'm sure you do. Speaking of beauty... Ellaria and I have very special and refined tastes. You should know we prefer both, women and men. We make no differences here." Oberyn looked at Harry now, observing his face and staring at the lightning scar on his forehead. "I have to confess we haven't had a pretty boy yet. Our young Boy-Who-Lived would be an intriguing choice. Don't you agree, my love?"

His paramour, Ellaria Sand nodded, her black eyes shining. "Indeed, he's quite a handsome lad."

Harry swallowed, feeling rather exposed under their gaze as if someone had stripped his clothing and left him standing naked before them. Merlin, what's wrong with these people? He asked himself and mumbled. "I'm not interested in, er, such a thing, my lord."

Oberyn shrugged. "A pity. But we will be waiting for you, should you have a change of heart."

Yeah, as if that will ever happen. Harry thought.

Olenna Tyrell regarded the Dornish delegation impatiently. "By your leave you may have no objections to take our seats at the table now. My legs are very tired."

Without waiting for their confirmation the Tyrell lady waved at her personal guards, snapping at them. "Left! Right! Take me to a chair! I'm on the verge of falling asleep here!"

They all took their seats at the table now. The only exception was Kevan Lannister. Tyrion's uncle stood in the far corner of the room and nobody seemed to be aware of his presence. They probably thought he was some Lannister guard.

As the one who had invited them all to Grimmauld Place, Harry had the honour to sit at the head of the wooden meeting table. Yet the dark-haired boy didn't like to be in the spotlight. He would've gladly asked someone else to take his place. Ron or Hermione would without a doubt fare way better than him. Fortunately Tyrion sat close beside his chair, should Harry need his counsel.

Harry scanned the attendants sitting at the table and only noticed by now, one family was still missing. House Baratheon. He had seen some of their guards outside but Lord Stannis was nowhere to be seen.

"Tyrion, where is Lord Stannis?" Harry asked and Tyrion shrugged in response.

Right on cue the Lord of Dragonstone entered the meeting room, following closely at his heels was a beautiful woman clad in thin robes of crimson silk, with copper-red hair.

Melisandre... Harry thought, taken aback by her unexpected presence and feeling the temperature rising around him. He instantly remembered her warning, her foretelling of Sirius' death at Voldemort's hands. I have to tell Sirius soon. He must know this.

"Look, who we have here. The lobster finally arrived.", Olenna Tyrell remarked dryly as she spotted him. A tall man in his late thirties, dressed in plain dark leather armour and brown breeches.

Lord Stannis ground his teeth and pierced her with his cold gaze. "I won't take insults from an old thorny rose, m'lady."

The old woman gave him a wrinkled smile. "Yes, yes, still as charming as I remember you."

Stannis looked irritated as if someone had stepped over his toes. Tyrion had told Harry that this lord was a humourless and brooding man who took every spoken word very seriously. To Harry this was more than obvious. The bald man wore a strict expression on his facial features, his mouth was a straight thin line, pale lips and clenched muscles, suggesting he was someone who never smiled or didn't even know how to smile.

He took his seat at the table and Melisandre stood behind him like a ghost, a beautiful nightmare in red, her scarlet eyes wandering over every single man and woman.

Stannis' eyes were a deep blue, as dark as the ocean by night. His eyes moved to Harry and he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, barely able to stand those cold eyes of his.

"Harry Potter." Lord Stannis addressed him with chill courtesy. "I think we can skip all the pleasantries and get straight to the point. You called us to help you against this Dark Lord who is threatening the whole Wizarding World. Let me speak frankly...", he pointed a finger at him, "You may be a hero here in Britain but you're still a green boy and I won't take orders from you. I am the rightful king here and you should all swear fealty to me. I demand your loyalty and your obedience."

"And what gives you the notion to be our king now?" Lady Olenna asked, sitting a few seats away from him. "As far as I know the dragon was our last king and gods forbid, we don't need another one."

Oberyn Martell nodded. "The rose is rarely right but this time I agree. Our family was loyal to King Aerys of House Targaryen. After the rebellion your brother Robert denied the throne and we all resumed to rule over our own territories again. It all works perfectly well. Why should we change that?"

"The iron throne is rightfully mine by the grace of the Lord of Light. Everyone who denies that shall be my enemy." The Lord of Dragonstone grumbled, clenching his jaw.

The old lady studied the red sorceress behind him, "We don't worship your red god, Lord Stannis." and she sighed, "Why is it that men have this queer notion they are fit to be king? The thought of putting a crown on their heads and sitting on that ugly throne seems to cloud their judgement. Well, they are all oafs in my eyes. I call this foolishness delusions of grandeur. And speaking of fools, our dark snake lord has the same notion somehow. Ruler of the Wizarding World... Ridiculous! Mayhaps he should put a crown on his Slytherin snake, that might make him happy."

"Voldemort shall be put to the sword as everyone else who opposes me." Stannis snorted and ignored the Tyrell Lady, turning to Harry again.

"I ask you again, boy." His dark-blue eyes bore into him, sharp as a dagger's edge. "Will the Order of the Phoenix serve me and lend me their strength? You're not blind. Surely you see you're not capable to lead an army."

"I-I...", Harry muttered nervously, not really sure what to say and feeling a huge lump in his throat.

Tyrion's words resurfaced in his mind again. Something he had told him a few days ago during their studies. Stannis may be a proven battle-commander but he inspires no love or loyalty. No one will follow him, Harry. You must make him understand he should be the one to follow you. But this will prove to be quite difficult. Lord Stannis is hard as steel. He will never bend.

I'm the Chosen One. Harry thought. He can't ignore this.

His godfather seemed to have read his thoughts because he spoke for Harry now. "Harry Potter is the Chosen One." Sirius said in an unwavering tone, stating it as an undeniable fact as one would claim the sky is blue. And his godfather went on. "Only he and Albus Dumbledore can lead the Order."

Stannis sat there, unmoved. "He is not the Chosen One. I am." And to emphasize his words he stood up and drew his sword, a bright blade shimmering in red, white, yellow and orange lights, its steel glinting like sunlight on a water's surface. A red ruby was set in the hilt of his sword, it was very similar to the great ruby Lady Melisandre wore around her neck.

The red sorceress spread her arms in an all encompassing gesture, turning everyone's attention to the shining sword. Her red eyes were glistening as if they were afire, her foreign voice whisperung words in a tongue he couldn't understand. It sounded like an ancient language, something very old and long forgotten. She lifted her voice now, pale flames licking at her fingers and dark smoke swirling around her slender body. "Behold! The Red Sword of Heroes, the sword of legend and prophecy... Behold Lightbringer! He who wields Lightbringer shall be the Chosen One. He shall be Azor Ahai and all the darkness of this world shall flee from him."

Stannis Baratheon held up the sword for all to see, Melisandre's flames dancing around Lightbringer's crimson blade, heating the air in the whole meeting room.

Lightbringer. The sword of prophecy. He must be Melisandre's other candidate. He is Azor Ahai. Not me. Harry thought, eyes drawn to the sword and feeling a wave of relief washing over him. It felt like someone had removed a heavy weight from his shoulders.

Tyrion murmured beside him."Well, it seems the lobster lord is our heroic Azor Ahai. Who would have thought that?"

The other lords and ladies seemed unimpressed. Oberyn Martell raised an eyebrow. "A flashy display, my lord. But why is he allowed to carry a sword here? I would have preferred to bring my spear too."

"I don't think anyone here wants to get too close to your spear, my prince. They say its tip might be poisoned." The dwarf said, tapping his fingers lazily on the table.

The Dornish prince smiled. "I see, you're afraid, my lord of Lannister. And we don't want you to have a heart-attack now, do we?"

Tyrion smirked, his mismatched eyes hinting at the old Tyrell lady. "That's not it. I only fear Lady Olenna might complain again how much she dislikes wooden sticks if you shall choose to wave your spear around her nose."

The old lady snorted. "Men and their weapons. It's always the same." She looked at Stannis now. "A pretty sword, my lord. I grant you that. Still, a sword doesn't make one a king, or a Chosen One for that matter."

The Baratheon ground his teeth, his face taut. "You won't bend your knees and swear allegiance to me? Is that your final word?"

Olenna Tyrell and Oberyn Martell gave Harry a questioning look, as if they wanted him to be the first one to answer him. Harry swallowed, knowing full well that he had to make a choice. A choice which had to reflect the Order's wishes and also their independence.

"No, we won't bend our knees." Harry replied with a firm voice, watching Stannis clenching his teeth again, his dark blue eyes glinting disdainfully.

"A king shall only have subjects and enemies. You chose to be my enemy. So be it, boy. I shall see you again on the battlefield, Potter. Don't try to hide from me, your day will come."

Tyrion grinned. "Ah, I have to congratulate you, Harry. This idea to hold a conference to gain new allies was simply wonderful. But it seems to me you have rather odd ways to gain new friends, or should I say enemies? Truly fascinating, my friend. You surprise me time and time again."