I like many others did not feel for the final season of Game of Thrones. So this is me re-working it with the addition of Hermione in the mix. It's part season 7 going into season 8. For the duration of the story, Hermione does not have her magic and that was something I decided very early on that would not change. I have tried to stick to the timeline given in the show as best as possible as well as a few other points but of course there are many areas where I have taken creative licence.

I am aiming for weekly updates as this story is almost complete. As always, I love hearing what you think so please do leave a comment! This is my first attempt at a crossover and I hope I have done it justice.

Fancasts: As per the HBO productions all characters are canon to the show and movie (Harry Potter)

Trigger warnings: Language, violence, smut, death of minor characters.

Disclaimer: George Martin owns all characters associated with A song of Ice and Fire

Harry Potter and all the characters from the Harry Potter Universe belong to J.K. Rowling.

1. Hermione

She had been trying got warm herself up by the fire when she heard the knock at the door. She opened it, finding the King's young ward on the other side.

"My lady, the King wishes to speak with you at once." He said.

She nodded and pulled her fur cloak around her a little tighter as she left the warmth of her room. Her boots clicked as she walked down the now familiar halls of Winterfell. She had been expecting to go to the Great Hall where the King's throne sat but rather the young ward led Hermione to the library.

The candles were burning low in the musky library. Hermione entered and saw the King in the North along with his sisters the Princesses Sansa and Arya. Sitting in a corner was the King's notorious direwolf, Ghost. It seemed they all watched her with keen and cautious eyes – even the wolf. Not that she blamed them. Hermione had not been in Winterfell for long but she had been around to surmise that the Starks had been through quite a lot.

"Lady Hermione," King Jon greeted. There was a warmth and gentleness with which he greeted her that Hermione was grateful for.

"Your Grace," Hermione said with a curtsy.

She looked to both the Princesses and curtsied to them as well but before she could speak Princess Sansa waved her off.

"You know of the discovery Samwell has made?" King Jon asked.

"Yes."

"How did you come to learn such a thing?" Sansa asked her.

"Well … I heard him, Your Grace," Hermione stated.

"You heard him?' King Jon repeated.

"Yes." She paused and then added, "And then I offered to help."

"Was this by your … magick?" he asked sceptically.

"No!" Hermione said immediately. Her heart sunk a little at his question. For how was he to know that despite her magic flaring at their initial meeting, she hadn't been able to use it since. That it had all but been lost to her.

But Sansa was a little more intuitive than her brother. "Why not?" she asked Hermione. When Hermione looked at her confused, she clarified. "Why didn't you used your magick, Lady Hermione?"

"I couldn't. I still can't." She replied softly. "It's been uh… lost to me."

"How?" Sansa pressed.

"I don't know."

"Sansa, is that really important right now?" King Jon asked her.

"Yes, it is. We have a possible mage or whatever it is you are-" she said gesturing to Hermione, "in our midst's. A witch that has so conveniently appeared out of nowhere just as this raven arrives." She pointed to the parchment on the desk before her. Sansa leaned forward in her chair, pinning Hermione with a hard look. "I'm very good at playing games, you know."

"I'm not playing any sort of game, Your Grace." Hermione promised. She knew too little about this dangerous world to attempt any sort of trickery.

But Sansa was not so easily convinced. "Hm, we shall see."

Hermione looked between the Stark siblings a little confused.

"King Jon has decided to travel south to Dragonstone," Sansa said, though she was clearly unhappy about it.

"South?" Hermione repeated.

"Queen Daenerys has summoned the King in North," Sansa said with clear disdain. She turned to her brother. "She hopes to make an ally out of the North."

"But I have other business I wish to see to on Dragonstone," King Jon spoke. "To mine the dragonglass," he explained. Ah, their discovery. "The Long Night is nearly upon us. According to discoveries made by you and Sam, Daenerys Targaryen sits upon a mountain of dragonglass. We need it here."

"So you're going to ask her for it?" Hermione asked. "Forgive me Your Grace, but I don't think she's going to part with it so easily." King Jon looked at her to continue. "She'll want something in return."

"Why would you think that?" he asked her.

"I might not be from your world, but I do understand that everything comes at a price. She won't just hand over what you need without demanding something in return." Hermione answered.

"And what will she ask of me?" King Jon asked.

"She'll ask for your fealty. She'll ask for you to bend the knee." Hermione replied. It was obvious why Daenerys had invited him. She had not been in their world too long, but the past few months had taught her much, as had Sam.

Hermione knew a power struggle when she saw one.

"And should he?" Sansa asked.

Hermione frowned as if the answer were obvious. It was of course. And then she realised, this was a test.

"No."

"Why not?" Sansa asked her. "She is a Queen."

"But Jon is the King," Hermione answered immediately.

Sansa sat back in her chair with a triumphant smirk playing on her lips as she looked at her brother.

"We have bigger issues than who sits on the bloody chair, Sansa!" King Jon cried.

"I am aware."

Hermione felt awkwardly out of place then as she watched the siblings fight. Obviously, this was an argument they had had before.

"You can't go South without reassuring your people that you won't bend the knee." Sansa insisted. "The North has suffered too much Jon."

"I know that," King Jon said with a heavy sigh. "But we need that dragonglass if we're to survive."

They had reached an impasse, Hermione was certain. What she could not understand was what her presence here would provide.

"Lady Hermione," King Jon suddenly called. "You're to accompany me to Dragonstone."

"M-me?" Hermione stuttered.

"Have you got other more important plans that you can't accompany your King?" Sansa asked.

"No, Your Grace. I did not mean it like that."

"Then what did you mean?"

"I'm simply shocked that you would trust me to go South with the King," Hermione spoke truthfully.

"I don't trust you, Lady Hermione. But it is not my decision." Sansa said looking at her brother. "He was insistent on the matter."

"Oh."

"Samwell is to stay here at Winterfell and help Maester Wolkan with the sick townsfolk. I need another who knows the maps just as well as he does." King Jon explained to her. "Sam says you do."

"He is correct," Hermione said.

"Good, then start preparing to leave." King Jon ordered.

"Yes, Your Grace," Hermione replied. She looked between the Stark siblings and after a contemplative moment, she spoke again. "Your Grace, would it not be better to take your sister's with you? Perhaps Queen Daenerys would be more –"

"Thank you Lady Hermione for your unsolicited counsel," Sansa said and Hermione flushed, "but things work a little differently here. There was must always be a Stark in Winterfell. If Jon wishes to go South then that is his command. My duty is to remain here with our people."

Hermione nodded mutely, wishing she had reserved the use of her tongue.

Sansa stood from her chair, her skirts falling perfectly around her. "Against my advisement, my brother has decided to trust you." She took a step closer to Hermione. "I would highly advise against trying to betray that. It has not turned out well for those who did."

Hermione stood tall in the face of the blatant threat. There was nothing else for it. Not even King Jon's weak objections at his sister's words. Princess Sansa looked only at Hermione. Her voice was the absolute distinction of quiet, calm power. Hermione did not doubt that she would rather face off against another Death Eater than face the implications of what Sansa Stark silently promised as the punishment for betrayal.

Hermione bowed her head as she curtsied. "You have my word, Princess Sansa. House Stark has my allegiance."

Sansa didn't say anything further, as she gathered her skirts and left the room. Arya gave her a fleeting look before leaving as well. Then it was just her and the King in the North.

King Jon looked down at the table that was covered with books and bits of parchment. She had not been dismissed just yet and wondered if she could get away with sneaking away. But then he looked up catching her eye and she found her feet firmly set in place.

"Your Grace," Hermione started. "Do you think it is wise for me to join you?"

"Lady Hermione –"

"Just Hermione is fine." She said. He looked at her and blinked twice. Hermione managed to bit back the grimace at her stupidity. Her face felt oddly flushed the longer he looked at her.

"Hermione," he finally said. "My sister means well. She is concerned."

"And rightly so."

King Jon quirked a brow at her as he clutched the pommel of his sword. "Do you mean to deceive us?"

"No," Hermione answered. "But she is not wrong to be so doubtful. You have many enemies. And war is being waged on two fronts. The battle for the throne is only momentarily put aside as you prepare to fend off the Night King. Once the dust settles there is still the matter of ascension."

"First we must win the war if we have any chance of trying to rule the realm." King Jon said as he scratched the wolf beside him affectionately.

"Of course," Hermione agreed. "But that doesn't mean we can't be prepared for what comes after."

"Is that what you think Sansa is doing?"

"I think she is looking to secure the fate of her people. Of your people." Hermione answered. The Princess might not like her but Hermione would be a fool to say she didn't admire her. Hermione was quite familiar with all the titles the Princess once had before her brother became King in the North. That was a lot of responsibility.

"What do you make of Queen Daenerys?" King Jon asked her.

"She is brave and bold and if word is to be believed quite just."

"But?" King Jon prompted.

"But she crossed an entire ocean to claim what she believes is her birthright. With three dragons." Hermione said. Her voice wavered ever so slightly at the mention of dragons. "Entitlement tends to change the ways of just people."

"She is still a Queen. A Targaryen Queen." King Jon said.

"But you are a King." Hermione said.

"A bastard King," he reminded her.

"That didn't seem to matter when your people called for you to be King in the North." Hermione said. She had heard the stories from the other occupants in the castle, of the day Jon Snow, Ned Stark's bastard was named The White Wolf and the King in the North.

"Some would say she has the better army… and three dragons." King Jon sighed and Hermione could see it weighed heavily on him.

"You have the loyalty of your people," Hermione replied.

"We need more than that to win this war," he said.

"And we shall find it," she promised him.

"You have a lot of faith in that my lady," King Jon remarked with a small smiled.

"It is not unfounded."

He looked at her for a moment, his hand scratching over his beard as he did so. "You don't think I should bend the knee?" he knew she said as much in front of Sansa but he needed to know if that was what she meant or if it was said for his sister's benefit.

Hermione didn't answer immediately. "No, I don't think you should kneel. The North needs to be ruled by someone of the North."

King Jon nodded. "Thank you, Hermione, for your counsel. I shall look forward to it once again when we are far from home."

Hermione smiled and curtsied again and then took her leave from the room.

Their journey to the coast passed in quick ease. Their party was small and with the help from Ser Davos, they avoided the Kingsroad and avoided detection. At the coast, a boat was waiting to take them across to Dragonstone. Hermione could already smell the salt of the sea and feel the hot sticky air of the capital. Just in the distance, she could barely make out the rough edges of King's Landing. Hermione had never been so grateful for the horse riding lessons her parent's had forced upon her when she was a child.

It was only through pure chance and a careful dose of luck that Hermione had survived this long since falling through the gap in space and time. Her home was all but lost to her, what she could remember of it. A brash incident between a rogue Death Eater, an explosion of magic and potion and Hermione was sent through the tiny tear in realties. Another world, another evil. Her magic had only barely managed to come across with her. What little she possessed she had used and then there was nothing. There was no way back. No way to reach out to get her home. So she stayed and tried as best to blend in. Though it was harder than she imagined. All she had was her knowledge gained from reading countless medieval tales and a dozen other history books. There was nothing else to it though. All Hermione had was her quick wit and good grace. And apparently the quiet favour of the King in the North.

She glanced across the deck of the ship, to see King Jon watching the horizon. Their journey across the realm had brought more familiarity and Hermione was sure that wasn't entirely appropriate. But he didn't seem too bothered by that. He was quiet, yes, but his words were measured and she found herself always eager for more interaction with him. He didn't act in any Kingly fashion she was familiar with. Nobody was less important than him in his eyes.

"How have you fared m' lady?" Ser Davos asked her. He had been a kind face since her unexpected arrival in this world.

"Well enough thank you." She answered. Though her eyes did not leave the King.

"Why do you follow him?" Ser Davos asked her. Hermione looked at him taken aback by his question. "I mean, I know the lad's good looking and apparently yeh ladies like the quiet broody types –" Hermione giggled at this despite her best efforts. "But you are not of this world. Why do you follow him?"

"Why do you?" She asked in return. "You are not of the North and you have no sworn ties to House Stark."

Ser Davos regarded her for a moment. And then placed his hand alongside hers on the railing. Hermione withheld her gasp as she caught a glimpse of his stubbed fingers.

"I have served two Kings now," Ser Davos continued. Hermione turned to look at him. "The first one took my fingers and my belief in what is right," he said, his face etching in pain at a distant memory. "But then I saw Jon Snow and well …"

"He restored your belief?" Hermione offered.

"I don't know if I'll ever believe in the Old Gods, or the Seven or even the bloody Lord of Light. But I believe in Jon Snow. I saw him come back when no one else ever has. I have to believe that he was brought back for a reason." Ser Davos told her.

"Do you think this coming war is the reason he was brought back?" Hermione asked.

Ser Davos shrugged. "If not this war then the next," he said solemnly.

Hermione cast her eyes down to the waters, biting her lip as she tried to recall everything Sam had been teaching her.

"Ser Davos, who is the Lord of Light?" she asked. "Samwell's been teaching me about the Faith of the Seven and even the Old Gods that the Starks keep. But I've never heard of the Lord of Light."

A dark shadow cast itself over Ser Davos' face. "That m' lady, all depends on who you ask."

Hermione knew that look. She had seen that look on far too many survivors of the war. It was no surprise that Ser Davos should wear the same tired expression after the very many battles he'd faced.

"You lost someone to this Lord of Light, didn't you?" Hermione asked.

He turned to her with a harsh glare but Hermione did not shrink away. He quickly recovered and turned his gaze away from her.

"Yes." He finally answered.

"I'm very sorry," Hermione said softly.

Ser Davos turned and smiled at her. "You remind me a little of her actually." He cleared his throat and then asked her with all seriousness, "You have not answered my question. Why do you follow him?"

Hermione looked across the deck once more to find King Jon, in talks with the Captain. She turned back to Ser Davos who had a knowing look in his eyes.

"He saved me." Was all she could say.