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One would think that after leaping through something dubbed 'the Veil of Death', you would be dead. Whether through Harry Potter's bizarre form of luck, or some other inconceivable feat of fate, Harry awoke to the sound of his own heartbeat. The sounds of wind whistling through trees rang in the distance, the groaning of boughs rubbing against one another, and the flumpf! of snow falling to the ground in great drifts. The young man opened his eyes only to be blinded by the stunningly white snow covering all around him. Trying again, Harry sat up and at once noticed something was wrong- not only was he alive, but seven others were arrayed around him like a seven-pointed star. His arms were covered in black metal, similar to the armour in Hogwarts and yet so different. His hands were similarly attired, with leather gloves covered in plates of blackest metal. Around him, the other seven were also attired in such armour, of varying colours.
'Where am I? How did I get here? How am I still alive, and where is Sirius?!' Harry thought, as the events of his previous waking hour came back to him. The run through the Ministry, the battle in the Death Chamber, and Sirius falling. Logically, he knew Sirius was no longer with them- the curse that Bellatrix Lestrange caught him with left no mark, no way out, and no survivors except one…
Out of the corner of his eye, Harry noticed the others begin to wake. Drawing his wand from his belt, he cast around looking for some cover from whoever these people were. Seeing none, he shouted, "Who are you? What did you do to me? Where is everyone?"
The others, from what he could tell (for he could not see their faces, hidden as they were behind fearsome helms) where as shocked as he was. Frightened, Harry began to cast a stunner at the nearest figure, donned in red armour, until he heard a familiar voice behind him.
"Whoa mate, it's me, Ron!" The figure wore a suit of huge brown armour, with inlaid figures of mountains across his chest. On his back sat a huge shield, a head shorter than the man. This couldn't be Ron, Ron was only just bordering six feet tall! This mountain of a man was easily seven, and as broad as many a tree in the Forbidden Forest! Next to him, on its head, stood a spiked warhammer, its pommel in the shape of a mountain, and its head made of a strange brown metal. But it was his voice- deeper, yes, but nobody spoke like Ron did.
"Ron? What the hell happened to you?! You're like a giant! You're as tall as Hagrid!" Harry looked around, noting the others properly for the first time as they each took off their helms and in the case of the girls, waved out their hair.
Ginny stood, her dark red hair blending in with her blood-coloured armour. Again, she was nearly a foot taller than she had been when he last saw her. Scenes of war were inlaid across her breastplate, and thrust into the ground behind her were two weapons that looked like small axes- waraxes. Both were the same blood red as her armour. Her beauty seemed to have increased exponentially with age. A smirk flitted across her freckled face as she saw him studying her.
Hermione stood next to her, in armour like lapis lazuli. From her shoulders and breastplate hung strips of parchment with miniscule writing sealed with golden wax. Planted in the snow next to her was a spear tipped with a pearlescent-blue blade as long as her forearm. She already seemed to be reading whatever she could of what was sealed to her armour.
On the other side of Ginny stood Luna. Gone was her dreamy, out-of-body daze. Now, she radiated pure serenity, her silver and white armour etched with moons and unknown constellations. Slung from her hip was a weird sword the colour of the full moon, straight near the hilt and curved at the end like a new moon. The handle looked like the horn of a unicorn. Her left bracer was wider than the others', like a buckler.
Beside her, Neville stood tall and proud, his previous anxiety blown away almost as if by the arctic wind. In golden armour lit from within, scenes of selfless heroism were etched in black and red. On his hip was a golden longsword, almost the brother of the Sword of Gryffindor. Neville smiled at Harry, and the green-eyed man knew that no matter what happened, Neville would have his back- no, they all would have each other's!
Last, but not least, between Ron and Neville stood the twins. A sense of unrestrained glee and mischief hung around them like the warm smell of summer. The two were adorned in identical sets of green and yellow light armour, with brown leather between the plates. Leaf-green daggers at their hips, and knives in bandoliers across their chests, the twins had strung bows slung over their backs etched with green and yellow snakes. Their helms, unlike the others, bore two horns that curved back on themselves.
Harry took stock of his own strange armour- across his chest was emblazoned a sword etched in golden filigree, that seemed to be warding off dark shambling figures of coldest, brightest blue. Next to him in the snow stood a pair of large, two-handed swords; one was black as night with specks akin to stars along its centre. The other was white as snow, with five strange symbols etched in red along the centre. As he took off his helm, he saw that all his armour was darkest black, and his barbute helm had a visor with a seven-pointed star worked in to allow his voice to escape the confines. The others gasped as he did so. "What?" Harry asked.
"H-Harry, you're hair! It's turned white!" Hermione stuttered. Quickly running his hands through his now-long hair, Harry noticed that it had indeed turned an odd silver-white. Not overly concerning, given the circumstances, he thought. Ron and Neville both had longer hair than he previously thought, but was tied back with a leather thong.
"What happened guys? How did we get here? Where is here?" Harry eyed Hermione as he said this, trusting that as usual she had the answers he needed.
"We all followed you through the Veil, Harry. We couldn't just let you run off without any help! I have no idea how Fred and George turned up, though, they weren't in the Chamber when we ran after you. Somewhere in the North, I'd say, judging by the snow." Hermione stated matter-of-factly. Harry turned to the twins.
"So how did you guys end up here?"
"We were at Headquarters when Dumbledore received Snape's message that Padfoot was a hostage in the Department of Mysteries. Obviously, Sirius was there too, but he was upstairs at the time feeding Buckbeak. So we dropped what we were doing and went after you. We may have had a little bit of trouble in one of the adjoining rooms which why were late…" Fred- no, George- said as he looked more than a little shifty.
"What did you guys do?" Harry wasn't sure if he wanted to know, honestly.
"We may have decided to appropriate a couple of books from the Department on our way to you… nothing important, and they were all dusty so it's not like they were even used all that much…" The twins had the good grace to look abashed at their petty thievery, but Harry knew better. Before he could say any more, however, Luna chimed in.
"Harry, you asked where we are; well, maybe this will help." The slight girl stood off at the edge of the clearing, studying one of the large white trees with red leaves that bordered it. Only now on close inspection did the group realise that carved into each tree was a face, akin to that of a House Elf's, yet craggier, and more beautiful and terrifying.
Clenched in the teeth of this particular tree's face was a scroll of parchment with a small title just visible. Quite simply, it read "The Knights Seven".
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Before reading the scroll as Hermione was desperate to do, Ginny suggested building shelter to keep warm and out of the snow. Quickly, given their magic (Hermione protested here, but if ever there was a need for it, the ban only applied outside of life-or-death scenarios), the small group conjured up some rock walls and a tarp to cover them, with Hermione supplying her well-known bluebell flames in the centre.
With the small space warming up quickly, there was no need to tarry any longer. Luna cracked the outer shell of the scroll open, and eased out the ancient parchment. Written in English so old it was barely recognisable, Hermione was forced to use a translation charm for them to read it.
"My name is Merlin. I am a Mage and advisor in King Arthur's court of Camelot. I have seen the future of this world, and I know that by now, by your very actions of leaving it behind, you have saved it from the Dark Lord. You have been given a chance, here, to continue ensuring the prevalence of the Light, on another world. Yes, another world. This is not the planet the people will come to know as Earth, but a planet with no name, yet. You currently sit in Westeros, in its most northern reaches known as Beyond the Wall. The Wall is a man-made construct of ice and magic raised over eight thousand years ago to fend off an invasion of the undead- known here as 'white walkers', or 'wights'. I will not lie to you. The Land Beyond the Wall is dangerous. South of it only slightly less so. This world has progressed no further than feudal Lords and Houses, bows and swords, magic and stone. I have crafted you gifts to ensure your survival in this land, gifts you already wear. Given your task, and the dangers therein you will remember years upon years of training, when barely hours ago you were in wonderful Hogwarts. You eight are my legacy, left to this wonderful land. The Knights Seven. Yes, there are eight of you, but really, twins count as one, I think. On this planet, there was a cataclysm four hundred years ago that rendered an island known as Valyria a wasteland of fire and death. Only two things survived this Doom- Valyrian steel, and a House of Dragonlords called the Targaryens. Three hundred years ago, Aegon Targaryan invaded the land known as Westeros and submitted it to his rule. Twenty years ago, there was a rebellion lead by the current King, Robert Baratheon against the Mad King Aerys II. After three hundred years of incest, the line of the Targaryens was weak. Whilst King Bartheon's kingdom is weak and poor from his debauchery, it is better than ever before- and will grow into a shining gem during your quest.
Your names are foreign to this land, and will do you no good. For now, I dub thee thus:
Harry Potter, I dub thee Lord Galahad of the Hunt, Aspect of Chivalry.
Ginevra Weasley, I dub thee Lady Guinevere of the Lake, Aspect of Ferocity.
Ronald Weasley, I dub thee Lord Gawain of the Mountain, Aspect of Loyalty.
Neville Longbottom, I dub thee Lord Lancelot of the Forest, Aspect of Honour.
Luna Lovegood, I dub thee Lady Selene of the Moon, Aspect of Serenity.
Frederick and George Weasley, I dub thee the Lords Perceval of the Night, Aspects of Mischief.
Hermione Granger, I dub thee Lady Igraine of the Sky, Aspect of Wisdom.
Your titles and bearing in this land will mean much to those who matter. Head first for Winterfell south of here past the Wall, where you will meet with your King and Lord. Along your path will be grimoires of knowledge from your land, from my time and yours to aid you. Be careful, my chosen, for Winter is Coming, and with it, the Long Night."
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The eight of them sat back in shock at Merlin's- Merlin's- letter. Another world, so different from their own! They knew that this letter was the truth- they could all feel the years of training their bodies had gone through to be able to wear their armour so easily, and use their weapons so well.
"Why do you think 'Winter is Coming' and 'Long Night' are capitalised?" Asked Hermione. Of course she could tell something was up there.
"I don't know." Said Neville, fully aware that they would find out soon enough.
Luna looked to the South, knowing that with the Sun rising where it did, to her left, she was facing the right way. "Myrddin mentioned that we need to get past that Wall and to a place called Winterfell. If we set off now, we should reach it by sundown." As she spoke, she pointed out the line of white and blue that stood above the treetops to the South. With everyone in agreement, they banished their shelter, and made for the Wall.
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A/N: Sorry about the last chapter's formatting problems. They occur a lot on FFdotNet for some reason for me, and I have no clue why. I've given up indenting my new paragraphs in the hope this helps. If you're interested, Harry's swords are based on Geralt of Rivia's from the Witcher 3, Ginny's waraxes by the orcish ones of Skyrim, and Harry's helm by the Warden in For Honor. I know this is still a lot of setting-up and describing going on, but I have this hugely detailed picture in my head of what they all look like and I NEED IT to be just right. On another note, I'm shit at speech, so bear with me until I get it right, please. I have a basic plan for the workings of the plot, pairings and some such. Who dies and who lives will be fun- all I will say is the Seven will not die. Maybe.