Arya spent the next hour or so reading through Hogwarts, A History. It was a very informative book, detailing aspects about each of the Four Houses, the castle itself, and it included biographies of Headmaster Dumbledore and Lord Tywen Gryffindor.
Apparently, there had been two massive wars over the last century, one fought nearly fifty years ago between multiple wizarding nations and an armada led by Gellert Grindelwald. He was a dark lord who had conquered much of Eastern Europe (the territories were displayed in a map which showed how the war had progressed until its conclusion in 1945), a region which resembled Essos very much.
Lord Tywen, at the age of 31, had led a British legion of wizards into Europe to pacify the renegade wizard and his forces. Apparently, his actions had begun to bleed over into the muggle (non-magical) world, something which threatened the International Statute of Secrecy in which the entire wizarding world existed. Lord Tywen had been massively successful, but had been captured in the late days of the war. Her grandfather, Rickard Stark, had managed to convince Dumbeldore into joining in his rescue. While the Starks, Karstarks and Mormonts were liberating Lord Tywen, Dumbledore had engaged Grindelwald in a legendary duel that resulted in the dark wizard's defeat and imprisonment.
It was said to have cemented Dumbledore's place as the greatest wizard of his age.
Then, the dark lord only called 'You-Know-Who' or 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' rose some ten or more years ago. He'd been a champion of blood purity, which meant you had to be the product of a long line of wizard families to be worth a damn. Arya found such a concept lunacy, at best. She'd known nobles to be as thuggish or cruel as any peasant, they just had more power.
Lord Tywen had again risen to the challenge and, apparently, so had her parents, aunt, uncles, and her grandfather. Her Uncle Bran and her grandfather had been captured and killed in this war, as they had been in her own world. Tywen's sons, Jaime and Tyrion, had fought in the war as well. Apparently, Jamie and Cersei Gryffindor had fallen while defending Casterly Rock from 'You-Know-Who'. They, and every other person in the castle at the time, had been reduced to dust.
The intriguing thing was that the book hinted, but didn't directly state, that 'You-Know-Who' had been targeting wizarding families for some time. The chapter concluded by mentioning that the terror had been ended by Harry Potter when the dark lord had cast the death curse at him and the curse didn't kill him, but rebounded and hit the dark lord.
Arya frowned as she considered that. Was it possible that Harry had already died and come back, like Jon and Beric Dondarrion? Or had he genuinely been impervious to that curse?
Either could be possible, and would definitely be a mark on the champion column for Harry. If so, she needed to get in touch with him quickly. Perhaps by September 1st, she would be somewhat knowledgeable about this world, enough at least to be a credible source of information.
She knew enough swordplay to be useful there, and her magical face abilities would be very useful. Still, she was a babe in the woods here. She knew, both from her experiences in Westeros and her education in the House of Black and White, that information would be the most important key to successfully guiding this boy.
Her thoughts were interrupted when a set of knocks echoed against her door, and Jon swept into the room.
"Studying, are we?" Jon asked, settling himself into the chair Tonks had created, "Look at you, a regular Ravenclaw."
"As opposed to a swaggering Gryffindor?" Arya shot back with a smirk.
Jon frowned, "I don't swagger."
"No, you're more of a mournful trudger."
Jon snapped his fingers, "Quite right. I am a goth, after all."
"Goth?" Arya asked, confused.
"Blimey, no one listens. Goth is, y'know, a love of gothic music and dark bands. I dress in black, wear black nail polish. It's a statement about who I am."
"A morose bastard?"
Jon chuckled at that, "Yeah, I suppose so. Now, quit distracting me. I'm here for a reason."
Jon leaned forward and looked at her for a long moment before asking, "Are you alright?"
Arya nodded, "I'm alright. Last night was just-"
"You don't have to explain." Jon interrupted, "What Roose Bolton did to father must have been horrifying. But he's in Azkaban, and his thrice damned dark lord is long dead."
The picture began to fill in a bit for Arya. Apparently, Roose Bolton had sided with You-Know-Who and had tried to murder her father only to be defeated in the process. She had been present, which suggested it had been during the very last days of the war. Perhaps their family had been targeted the same as the Lanni-Gryffindors and the Potters.
"How many others died, at the end?" Arya asked quietly, unsure of herself.
Her hunch proved correct when Jon sighed, "The Death Eaters killed the Manderlys, the Martell children, the Karstarks...Lord Tywen's eldest children."
Arya quirked an eyebrow; Jon's voice carried a hint of familiarity when he spoke of Tywen, "You've met him?"
Jon chuckled, "He lives in the castle, of course I have."
Arya frowned, "What about Casterly Rock? Isn't that the ancestral home of the Gryffindors?"
"No, that's Godric's Hollow. Casterly Rock is where Corlos Gryffindor moved the family after he discovered Azkaban Island and waged war on Ekrizdis and his army of Dementors."
Arya filed that information away for later, as that didn't match up at all with her own world. She also noted that she needed to get a detailed set of historic volumes and maps so she could get more acquainted with this amalgamation of her world and this magical one.
"But," Jon stood, gaining her attention, "Enough history. I came here because I feel like you need a little excitement between school and classes."
Arya smiled lightly, "What'd you have in mind?"
Jon merely pointed behind her. Arya turned and realized he was indicating the broom which was racked near the window.
"Tag?" Jon offered.
Arya almost declined for fear that she would give herself away by having no skill on a broom, but she had to admit to feeling cooped up. A bit of fresh air would do her good.
Plus, it was flying. It had been a dream of Arya's to fly someday and, while she'd never had a chance to fly Drogon or Rhaegal, a broom would be a fine substitute.
Grinning, Arya grabbed her broom and followed her brother out to the courtyard, where she stilled as the same feeling she'd had around Remus Lupin claimed her. But instead of it being a single predator, here she found herself surrounded by an entire pack.
"Are you alright, milady?"
Arya and Jon, who hadn't noticed his sister's discomfort, turned to find a familiar face standing in the courtyard. He wore the same gray robes that House Stark favored, but his were less fine and in need of some repairs. His face was clean-shaven, with eyes shadowed with exhaustion, and he had long, brown hair.
It took Arya a moment to place him, but when she did, she broke out into a wide smile, "Hello, Jory."
"Good afternoon, little miss." Jory smiled in return, "I see you're doing well."
"How are you, Jory?" Jon asked.
"Well enough. You out for a spot of flying before moonrise?"
The two nodded, eliciting a smile from Jory who waved them off.
"Have fun, you two."
Arya followed her older brother a fair distance from the courtyard, following the winding path through the trees which she knew led to the Godswood. Instead, Jon turned left and lead her through some heavy brush before coming upon a field of sand with a tall set of stands and two sets of posts, each holding rings of different heights.
The two reached the nearest stands, where Jon tapped his wand against the wooden wall, causing a door to appear. Jon pushed it open, revealing the stairs which led up to the seats. There was a chest situated on the wooden floor by the stairs. It was labeled 'Quality Quidditch Supplies.'
Jon opened it, revealing the presence of multiple balls meant for the game. There were two metal balls which began rocking back and forth when the chest opened, clearly trying to break free from their shackles. In between those two was a misshapen ball which appeared like brown leather and had divets in sections of it. It was similar to the ball she'd seen the Holyhead Harpies carry on their picture. Lastly was a small golden ball situated above the center ball, a ball which strongly resembled the snitch her brother had had back in Diagon Alley.
Jon retrieved the center ball, then turned to his sister.
"I'm thinking, whoever lands the most tags with the quaffle before we have to go in. Should be enough time for about, oh, 45 minutes or so?" Jon asked.
Arya smirked, "D'you really want me to hit you that often, brother?"
Jon chuckled, "Prepare to eat some crow, sister."
Jon locked the chest and led Arya back out to the field. He stripped off his cloak, leaving him in his robes and boots. Arya followed his example, certain that the cloak would hold her back.
Jon reached into his cloak and withdrew a silver device from a pocket. It resembled the device she'd seen on Tonks's wrist, but Jon pulled up a gear on top of the device and began to wind it. When he did, the small fingers on the device turned themselves until reaching a point forty-five minutes into the future. Jon set it again and Arya's eyes widened as the fingers twisted back to their original positions before Jon tucked it back into his robes.
Arya schooled her features back to normal when Jon turned back to her, "Right, you ready?"
Arya nodded.
Jon straddled his broom with the quaffle tucked under his left arm and kicked off, propelling him several dozen feet above the ground. Arya marveled at the feat for a moment before eagerly straddling her own broom and kicking off as well.
Flying was what true freedom must feel like. Arya found controlling the broom far easier than she'd imagined, almost as though she had been born to fly. She climbed high into the air, laughing heartily as she did. She leaned back and flipped herself and the broom over, clinging to the broom with her hands and thighs, and promptly dove down as fast as she could.
She shouted out her joy as she neared the ground, and laughed as she heard her brother's fearful cries. She pulled up at the last moment, coming so close to the ground that her toes touched the sand.
She climbed back higher and leveled off beside her brother, who was staring at her with stunned pride.
"...Nice Wronski Feint, Ary." Jon faintly smirked.
Arya merely smiled in reply.
"Ready?" Jon asked.
"Ready!" Arya cried.
Jon threw the quaffle right at Arya's head, but the warrior child plucked it out of the sky.
The chase was on.
For almost forty minutes, the siblings chased each other around the field. Their skills on the broom were evenly matched, save for Arya's daredevil antics. She would avoid the ball by diving, flying upside-down, even one memorable moment when she'd flown through the rungs beneath the stands in a corkscrew maneuver to evade her brother.
Jon, however, was less prone to risk taking or 'showing off' as he called it. His flying was very direct and straightforward, with an emphasis on stability and control of the quaffle. He would usually capture the quaffle, try to force Arya into a trap and then tag her.
In short, Arya was having fun while Jon wanted to win.
The last score went to Jon (via a rather brilliant move where he pretended to miss Arya, only for her to get tagged from behind when the ball rebounded off the goal), who called time when he felt his watch start to ring.
The duo were floating back down to the ground when they were startled by a clapping sound. Arya stilled when she recognized the man from this morning.
The predator.
Jon nodded pleasantly, "Hello, Remus."
"Hello!" Remus returned, "Jory told me you would be out here, so I thought I'd pop over and watch."
"She's terrible, isn't she?" Jon said jokingly.
"Hey!" Arya called, shoving him playfully.
Remus laughed at that. Arya took him in for a moment: this man was utterly foreign to her, unlike the other people she'd seen at Winterfell. He seemed older than his years, he had sad eyes that stared at them with love, sorrow and nostalgia.
She knew those eyes.
He'd lost people, people who were family to him.
"I spoke with your mother." Remus picked up, shuffling awkwardly, "She...she told me you met H-Harry Potter."
"What of it?" Arya sent back with more than a hint of challenge.
"Arya!" Jon called, "Watch how you speak to Steward Lupin!"
Arya's eyes widened a bit, realizing what she should have seen before. Father must have chosen Remus to be his steward, likely after the war. If that was the case, then she'd just insulted someone who could be very detrimental to her goals.
Remus merely waved it off, "No harm done. It's good to see how protective young Arya is over the Boy-Who-Lived."
Remus took a breath before continuing, "Your mother said he looked...rough when you encountered him."
"Try 'homeless.'" Arya corrected, "He wore rags that were too large for him, they were torn in some places and looked like they hadn't been appropriately washed in a decade or two."
Remus gasped and lifted his hand to cover his mouth, "H-Harry? In that state? Oh, Lily...I'm so sorry."
Arya and Jon shared a look. It was plainly obvious to the girl that Jon had not been privy to anything Remus had spoken of, or at least not enough to understand why Remus was reacting this way.
"Remus?" Jon stepped closer, moving cautiously so he wouldn't spook the distraught man, "What's wrong?"
"Who's Lily?" Arya asked softly.
Remus took a long time to answer, but eventually he said, "I was a-a schoolmate of his, uh, Harry's father. There were four of us, you see. James was like a brother to me, as was Peter and...He met Lily in first year and, like that, he knew she was the one.
Remus laughed, "He was a right prat, trying to win over Lily with bluster and schoolboy charm. All the while planning prank after prank. I didn't think they'd ever get together. Until one day, they did.
"They were perfect together, far more than I...Then, Harry came along and...You-Know-Who."
"The night Voldemort came for them." Jon surmised.
Voldemort. So that was his name. This dark lord piece of shite. Arya would have his head on a pike.
"After it all settled," Remus picked up, "I wanted to see him, b-but...I couldn't."
Arya stared at him before a hint of disgust pooled into her eyes, "He was your family...your pack! Why in Seven Hells didn't you go to him!?"
Jon and Remus flinched at the unfamiliar curse, but neither berated her.
"I can't tell you." Remus claimed, with a strange combination of sorrow and understanding in his eyes, "But it doesn't matter. All that matters is that now, I know I must."
With that, the man twisted on his heel and vanished.
XXX
A/N: Hello everyone, I hope you've enjoyed this latest chapter. I've set out a schedule for posts.
Week One: It's All On Us
Week Two: The Nightmare Clock
Week Three: The Next Life
Week Four: Break Week
I will be posting during the Christmas and New Years weeks. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter, and please feel free to leave a review.