This fic steals… I mean borrows…

I mean steals a lot of ideas from different fics, including, but not limited to:

Just Another SI by JustAnotherFan217

The Dread Lord of Essos by Dasteiza

An Immortals Vacation by Y-T3cH

Why be creative, when I could make an amalgamation of other people's ideas?

He wasn't the naïve, attention seeking, boy most people knew him as. That was a mask he wore. A mask he was forced to wear for his own safety.

The death of Dumbledore allowed him to slip off that mask.

Beforehand, he did things in secret. He knew Dumbledore had plans for him every time he strolled into the Dursley home and obliviated everyone when he called the police for the abuse he suffered. Oddly, yet fortunately, obliviations don't work on him. He's seen enough of the man to know he can't be trusted.

That choice was solidified when he went to his Account Manager and found that money has been stolen from it. He's had the goblins discreetly take all his money back, as well as terminate the illegal betrothal contract between him and Ginny.

When he got healed by the goblins, they found he had a horcrux in his scar, and removed it. Using that horcrux, they used a ritual to call all other horcruxes to it, then destroyed them.

By the time he left the bank, he looked nothing like he did when he arrived.

While he was in Hogwarts, he maintained the mask of the typical Gryffindor while studying proper wizarding etiquette in private. He made proper allies from all four Houses in secret, and even told his friend Hermione the whole truth about him. She and all his other allies kept his secret, while he continued to fool his opposition.

The years progressed, but each year, he was forcefully dragged into near death experiences.

First year, Quirell stunned Weasley and Hermione from behind, and marched him, at wand point, towards the third floor corridor. A corridor he's made a point in avoiding. He was forced into a room with a giant cerberus, but he was friends with the dogs' master, so it allowed him pass, but mauled Quirrell as soon as he stepped in. Then the wraith of Voldemort tried to attack him, but was rebuffed by the arcane magic his mother used to protect him.

Second year was a normal year, but third year had Sirius Black escaping Azkaban and Dementors were sent to the school. He almost got kissed on the train there. He did capture Peter Pettigrew in the end, and his godfather was exonerated. He finally had a happy home to go to.

Fourth year was the Tri-Wizard Tournament, and he had all types of bad feelings when it came to that event. In preparation, he asked his house elf friend to guard the Goblet at night to ensure his name didn't go in. The very next evening, it was apparent to him that Dumbledore was waiting for another name to come out as he kept droning on and on after drawing the three names. He wasn't truly interested in the tasks, but his best friend asked him to attend with her. He took her to the Yule Ball and used Weasley's jealousy as an excuse to end their friendship. That year turned into shit when the false Alaster Moody tossed him the trophy portkey in the middle of the stands. He caught it on reflex, and was whisked away in front of many witnesses. He was an unwilling participant of the resurrection of Voldemort. He grabbed the portkey after being hit by the torture curse twice and was able to escape, grabbing his kidnapper as he went. He was smart enough not to announce Voldemort's return with the fool of a Minister in charge, so he used a house elf to send a discreet letter to one of his allies, the head of the Department Magical Law Enforcement. He gave her the key to the vault that had all the money that he was given for killing the basilisk and selling it to the goblins.

Fifth year was ridiculous because the Minister found out about Madam Bones bolstering of the Auror force, and tried to take the money that was donated to her and was very publicly lambasted for that by her. He quickly scampered away and left her to it. With no one to fill the vacant DADA position, the Minister was quick to put his own person in that position because he was scared of Dumbledore's insistence on the fact that Voldemort has returned. Dolores Umbridge was incredibly loathsome woman, and she was adversely affecting the students' DADA grades. While he was ahead, his classmates didn't have the same luxury. He aided his allies by tutoring them, and they in turn tutored others. She was swiftly arrested when it was discovered that she was using blood quills on the students. Later in the year, it was reported that Voldemort was spotted in the heart of the Ministry battling Dumbledore. Harry spent that summer sharpening his heightened skills under Sirius' tutelage.

Sixth year had a dying Dumbledore who fell for a withering curse on an object that wasn't even a horcrux anymore. Snape became the DADA teacher, and he adamantly refused to attend. He hired a retired Auror to tutor him, which he was fully in his right to do, despite what Dumbledore says. The school year finishes with the death of Dumbledore, after the school had Death Eaters infiltrate it. They were repelled by the students and Order members. Both Sirius and Remus were unfortunately a part of the casualties. The Marauders became reunited in death.

Now, it is the summer after sixth year. He had used the Daily Prophet to send Voldemort a challenge to a duel. He stood in the center of an abandoned Diagon Alley, completely calm. Well it wasn't truly abandoned. All of the stores had people crowding the windows and the roofs, behind cover.

He stood unmoved, yet seemingly completely relaxed.

With the smallest of cracks, Voldemort appeared several yards away.

"Harry Potter…" Voldemort rasped in his deep tenor. "… the-Boy-Who-Lived… come to die… Avada Kadavra!"

The ensuing battle was one that will be talked about for decades to come. With Sirius' help, Harry studied the counters to as many dark spells as he could while also learning truly obscure spells from both the Potter and Black libraries.

Armed with the Deathly Hallows, the cloak being his family heirloom, and the wand and stone being nicked from Dumbledore's office, Harry Potter fought Voldemort on equal footing. Everyone watched as Harry and Voldemort duelled furiously. People were in awe of the sheer amount of magic being thrown around by the two wizards.

The crowd watched for the next several minutes with bated breath as Harry and Voldemort duelled with everything they had. The duel was spectacular, and also deadly. The naïve in the crowd woke up to the harsh reality of what war was really like, and many were in awe of Harry, who was a nearly sixteen-year-old boy, being able to hold his own against a Dark Lord who was four times his age. After several minutes of duelling using various branches of magic, they both fired spells at each other which met in mid-air.

People screamed as the blasts and sparks from the two spells collided. Both Harry and Voldemort's spells were battling for dominance, but everyone could see that Harry was clearly winning the fight.

Voldemort noticed this too, so he struck Harry with a wandless legilimency attack, hoping to distract him enough to kill him. While Harry didn't know he would be attacked in such a fashion, he did feel his mental shields take a harsh hit. While his shields were taking damage, he allowed his focus to slip minutely to wandlessly disarm Voldemort.

It worked.

While Voldemort was distracted by the fact the he was truly bested for the first time in decades, Harry had summoned the sword of Gryffindor, and sped towards him. By the time Voldemort got enough of his wits together, Harry was already mid-swing. When Voldemort looked at him fully, the sword already finished swiping through his neck. His lifeless body fell onto the ground while his head rolled a bit.

Harry stood there, panting from the most exhausting battle of his life, while Diagon Alley shook from the cheers and celebrations of Voldemort's second death.

Harry picked up Voldemort's head, as he cast a sonorus on himself. He needed to take control, and fast. "I am going straight to the Ministry and demand any and every employee I see to show me their forearms. If they have a Dark Mark, I will stun them and allow the Aurors to arrest them. This time, bribes will not be allowed! This time, veritaserum will be mandatory! This time, we will truly end this war! Who will join me in reclaiming our Ministry, and ENDING THIS WAR!"

The roar of the crowd was louder than the celebration as Harry led an empowered crowd to the Ministry while holding Voldemort's head and body.

It didn't take long to round up every Death Eater and round them up. Most of the afternoon was spent with hordes of people demanding others to show their left arm. Those who denied were quickly stunned and bound. Two people stayed to guard while the rest of the horde continued on.

The evening was filled with fairly quick cases. Verataserum was used while Potion Masters continuously made more before they ran out. While there were truly vile cases, there were cases where they were strong armed into joining, or their family were threatened. Depending on what they did under the watchful eyes of the loyal Death Eaters, their punishment ranged from a fine to a couple months in low security in Azkaban.

The vile cases were immediately sentenced to the Veil of Death. They had their second chance, and they squandered it.

There was a couple cases where the Death Eater defected before the end, or they never truly believed in the Cause. They were sucked into Voldemort's honeyed words when they were brash and foolish youths, not knowing the depths of the true insanity of the monster they bound themselves to. Those people were sentenced to Azkaban for a couple months to a year, and they were fined.

One of those people were Lucius Malfoy. He was a foolish youth, joining Voldemort right out of Hogwarts, and willingly took his mark, not recognizing the cattle brand it was. The more he saw, the more he realized what a mistake he made. He was definitely a pureblood supremacist, but he didn't want to slaughter entire Houses of purebloods. Unfortunately, that's what the monster he bound himself to did.

He and his wife cried absolute tears of joy when Voldemort's death happened the first time, and he did so again in court when the fact that the monster he bound himself to was truly dead. He wasn't even arrested. He walked directly into court to confess his crime on the stipulation his wife and heir didn't receive any backlash from his crimes.

By the time all the case were over, Harry was running on fumes. He managed to keep his strong and imposing stride as he went to the Floo and went home. In his exhaustion, he fell unconscious as soon as he stepped through. His house elf removed his clothes and brought him to bed.

While he wanted to sleep in, waking up early was ingrained into his very body. His house elf thankfully had his breakfast prepared and an Invigoration Draught ready for him.

When he returned to the Ministry, he witnessed the inauguration of the new Minister of Magic, Amelia Bones. He thankfully convinced all of his allies to have a secret escape tunnel built into their homes. Madam Bones was able to survive her assassin attempt because she and her niece used said tunnel.

It was right after her appointment to Minister of Magic, Harry was given an Order of Merlin. His speech revolved the need for progress, and how the nations looked down on them because of their refusal to progress. His speech received raucous applause and cheer. He spent the next hour answering questions from the reporters. It was exhausting, but necessary.

He then went to the Department of Magical Education and took his NEWTs. He wanted to be done and over with his education. The next week was him breezing through fifteen NEWT exams and receiving Outstanding with distinction in every one. He set a new record on the amount taken, and grades he received.

He approached Madam Marchbanks for her to sponsor him for a Mastery in Defense of the Dark Arts. It was a funny coincidence that she happens to have a Mastery in the same subject. With that initial sponsorship, he earned his Mastery in Defense, then sponsored himself when he applied for Masteries in different subjects. It was a nice loophole that no one bothered to exploit besides his mother who had a duel Mastery in Potions and Charms.

It took a total of two weeks for him to complete his education.

With all the parading and celebrating done, Harry stayed in seclusion for a week, and just allowed himself to relax. It was only for that week that he allowed himself to be lazy, but after that, he continued to train and study. He'd be a fool to allow himself to stagnate after his victory. He knew peace was never everlasting, so he needed to prepare for the next Dark Lord that crops up.

He spent his days mostly in seclusion until Daphne Greengrass asked for a marriage for both protection and to have powerful children. He didn't see an issue with that, so he agreed. The relationship didn't begin nor end with love, but they grew to deeply care for the other. They were definitely sexually attracted to each other, as the near dozen children they had together could attest to. They both raised all their children well, and allowed them to grow into successful adults.

When another Dark Lord rose, Harry was across the world until Daphne and one of their children died defending others from the new Lord. Harry returned home with all haste and systematically destroyed the entire operation. The new Dark Lord was practically begging not to die, but Harry didn't even let him have his last words before killing him.

Harry spent years of study inhaling knowledge, both mundane and magical, to supplement his skillset and became a master of all. His children all had kids of their own, and those kids had kids, and so forth.

Harry was still alive at this point with a beard that would've made Dumbledore jealous. He still visited his descendants every once in a while to make sure the family ideals were still being upheld by them. He wandered the planet for centuries bolstering his expansive knowledge on magic, and killing Dark Lords.

It took him three centuries to get over his ingrained hesitation towards the darker magic, until he finally did it, and realized that the people who practice the Dark Arts were either incredibly greedy, or incredibly stupid. The Dark Arts worked on equivalent exchange, much like alchemy. He sacrificed his blood, or magic, or at times, criminals scheduled for execution.

Any of those three things were sufficient to keep his mind from being negatively affected.

When he finally died, it was against a Dark Lady who used the Earth's ley lines to empower herself. She only succeeded in destroying the planet and everyone in it.

In that battle, it was the first time Harry had all three hallows since Voldemort. The witch succeeded in destroying his first wand, and used the moment of distraction to connect herself to the ley lines. By the time Harry pulled out the Elder wand, the foolish witch already raptured one ley line, and a cascading effect began.

If Harry wasn't at the epicenter of the collapse, he, the oldest and most knowledgeable wizard on the planet, would've definitely been able to fix the damage, but he and his foe were killed immediately.

He felt a searing amount of pain one second, then slightly unsettled as he was slammed into a chair. He paused a moment, trying to use his magic to run diagnostics on himself, but found that he couldn't utilize his magic. Before that could properly register a voice spoke up. "Welcome, Mr Potter."

He looked up and found himself in a stereotypical interrogation room with a single table and two chairs. The person who spoke was a gorgeous woman who looked as if she could be his kin. She had raven hair tied into a tight bun, green eyes a shade darker than his, and a black suit with a green tie that matches her eyes. She had black lipstick, high cheekbones, and a stern expression. "If you're done gawking, we can begin."

"I apologize, my lady. Even in my old age, it's not often I see a truly beautiful woman such as yourself." Harry replied nonplussed. He's lived long enough to not be easily embarrassed. At least his earnest words seemed to slightly soften her hardened facial features.

"Hmph. I am Hel, the Goddess of Death of the Norse Pantheon. You are dead." She declared casually.

Instead of the usual reaction of disbelief, or sorrow one in Harry's position would show, he instead smiled, and his shoulders dropped in relief. "I gave up trying to die centuries ago. This is truly great news. May I ask why is it a simple soul like myself warrants your personal visit, my Lady? I know that we Potters were originally vikings, so we fall under your jurisdiction."

"The Aspect of Death itself wants to meet you. I don't know why, and I don't know what to expect. Just know you aren't the first to catch her eye, so don't feel special."

"The Aspect of Death?" Harry asked, eager to learn.

"All deities of Death draw their power from the literal embodiment of Death. The very concept of Death is a being, just like Life, Eternity, Infinity, and even Love."

"How fascinating."

"Come on, get up. We're already late." Hel rose, and as soon as he got up, he found himself standing outside a dark wooden door, no memory of how he got there. Hel was no where to be seen, but he didn't just barge through the door like a barbarian. He knocked the door politely and waited patiently for a response. The door swung inwards showing a completely black room with a sole chair in it. He walked into the room, the door closing behind him, and with the briefest of hesitations, he sat on the chair and closed his eyes.

"Harrison… James… Potter. The oldest soul on Earth, and the most learned wizard alive. You've finally held all three of my artifacts." Harry opened his eyes at the voice, and found himself looking at a beautiful zen garden, with a small minka, or traditional Japanese house, surrounded by a bamboo forest.

He looked at where the voice came from, and saw a beautiful Asian woman wearing a black traditional kimono. "Are you… Death?"

"Yes, Mr Potter, I am. Every once in a while, I change my appearance to match a pantheon. As you can see, I am currently representing the Shinto pantheon." She explained.

"May I ask what was it that kept me alive for so long? And why I am given the privilege to be in your presence?"

She sighed, and Harry could've sworn he saw a slight embarrassed look cross her face before it vanished as if it was never there. "Despite having all three Hallows, you refused to use two of them. The Stone I can understand because, you wouldn't want to disturb the dead, despite how much you miss them. The Wand however, I was baffled that you refused to use it. You only used the stick Ollivander made. I'll admit, I was a bit peeved that you refused to use the item that so many people would kill for, so in retaliation, I refused to allow you to die. As the centuries progressed, I became less upset and more impressed at your self control. At some point, I decided that I want you as one of my Reapers."

"What is a Reaper, exactly?" Harry asked, ignoring the petty reason he was cursed with immortality.

"You hunt down, kill, and collect the souls of those on a list I give you. It ranges from strong humans, to primordials. I'd reap them myself, but during the time before time, my siblings and I decided not to be too involved with the lifeforms, but we can use Champions or Avatars in our stead." Death explained.

It didn't really sound that interesting according to Harry.

"Your jurisdiction would be Omniversal. There's no time limit on completion, and you can gather the knowledge of the different worlds."

Harry wanted to deadpan at her, but he couldn't deny that he was now interested. He uncovered all the mysteries of Earth, and was bored for several decades before his death. The promise of finding new and different knowledge had his interest.

"Alright, I'll join."

It was the day of the dead, or Día de los Muertos, in a town in Mexico. This was one of her favorite pantheons to embrace. Her hair was curly and black, reaching all the way down to her knees. She wears a red dress decorated with cempasuchil, Mexican marigold flowers, all over it. Her head had marigolds on top of it like a crown. Her face was split with her caramel skin exposed on one half, and the other had a sugar skull painting, or traditional Mexican skull makeup.

She stood atop a church just observing as the Latin citizens celebrated the lives of their loved ones, instead of wallowing in sorrow at the loss.

She heard a caw in the air as she turned and saw a crow flying it's way towards her. It swooped and before it landed, it turned into a tall and handsome man. "Harry, mi amor."

He kissed her offered hand. "Las Muertas."

She looked at him closely. He face was neutral, but she could sense disgust and sorrow coming from him. "What has you so upset?"

He sighed and his neutral expression dropped. "My last target was one of the worst beings that I had the pleasure of killing. He kidnapped women, then raped them, then used his children in rituals to expand his lifespan."

This was why Harry became Death's favorite. He's been a Reaper for nearly a dozen millennia, but unlike her other Reapers, he still had empathy. It intrigued her, and drew her to him. She held his face in her hands and turned his head to face her. "You need a vacation, mi amor. The breaks I force you on to watch movies or shows with me don't count. Hell, I've taken three since you've come aboard!"

All of the employees of the RIPD loved taking vacations, especially the Reapers. They usually lasted a few hundred years. You could go to any plane of existence in the omniverse. Once your preferred "verse" was chosen, you could travel there and do anything you wanted. You just had to fill out the paperwork and that verse was considered a write-off. She personally liked going to some space-faring verse and becoming a Sith Lord. She loved Star Wars.

"You're right." Harry capitulated, rubbing his temples. "I've been trying to work harder than everyone else. I'm the new guy after all, and obviously your favorite, so I have a higher standard to set."

"I know cariño, but you're not new anymore. Since you came on board several have retired and new ones have been added." She pulled him in for a hug. "Even though I'm your boss I've never really ordered you to do anything, but I am giving you an order now. Take an extra long vacation. At least five hundred years. Stay at a world or three. Do anything you want. Have fun, relax, impregnate an entire planet of women, or go on a murderous rampage in your quest for world domination. I don't care so long as you enjoy yourself, and come back to me relaxed." Death said kindly, nuzzling his neck with her face.

It should be obvious by now, that the two are intimate. Death was a virgin before Harry came along, and she's having talks with her sisters, Love and Life, on what she could do so that she can give Harry a child. She was a genderless being, but Harry made her want to remain a woman.

Harry closed his eyes. He had one hand resting on her lower back, and the other scratched the base of her scalp. She always seemed to enjoy it when he did that. "I think I will take a vacation. I've been pretty stressed lately. I have no idea where to go though."

"Is there any time or place that you've wanted to witness firsthand?" She asked with a smile.

"In my youth, I thought it would be pretty cool to experience medieval times. I even studied a lot of different things in preparation like how to make technology I could slowly introduce to the world. I calculated the necessary ritual for time travel, but another Dark Lord grabbed my attention, and the whole idea was forgotten." Harry considered.

"I know just the place! You'll love it!" She exclaimed. She had been watching a particular verse after watching a certain show, then quickly ruled it out when the final season came. The books were great, and the show had a strong start, but it fell flat. Their surroundings changed and both appeared in an office. She went to sit behind her desk and pulled out some papers.

"What do I need to do?" asked Harry, growing excited as he sat down. Maybe he did need a vacation.

"Don't worry about the paperwork. I'll take care of that. First, we need to go over the ground rules. For the most part, there are none. The only exceptions are first, you can't take any divine objects with you. You'll need to leave your Mirror here with me." Every employee in the RIPD had one. They used it as a sort of television to peer into any world in any verse.

"The only other rule is that you're not allowed to keep your higher powers while gone. That means no soul-reaping and no resurrections." She said, filling out the necessary forms. "You'll still keep your lower powers, magic, physical enhancements, basically everything you had before you died. Any questions?"

"What happens if I were to die there?"

"You'd come back here, and I'd tease you incessantly about being killed by some weaklings. If you don't want to end your vacation, you'd be sent back to a time where you'd have ample opportunity to get out of the situation that got you killed. Or you could just go to another world to continue your vacation." She explained.

"How do get there and return?"

"I'll send you there. When you're ready to come back just call out for me and I'll bring you home. You should know I'll be listening. I don't usually use my omniscience, but I'll keep watch over you." She answered. As soon as she finished the forms, the vanished. "I should also tell you that you'll have to be born into the world since it's your first run. We all have to go through it during our first time." Harry nodded even though he really didn't want to go through childhood again. It was annoying enough the first time.

"Any more questions?" Harry shook his head. "Good. Now just stand there and don't move, and I'll send you on your way. Remember to enjoy yourself, mi alma. This is a vacation."

As he opened his eyes, he thanked the Omniverse that he didn't have to experience birth. He came into being right after. He was currently being wrapped in a blanket. Being so warm was making him a bit sleepy until a very large breast was stuck in his face! He looked up as he nursed and concluded his mother was beautiful. Harry used legilimency on her and found out her name was Cersei, and his father was a man named Robert.

He used some Compulsion Charms to make sure he was named Harold. He really didn't want some weirdo name. Ignoring everything else, he continued to nurse.

This place sucked.

At least, it would if Harry wasn't who he was. He was Prince Harold of House Baratheon and he was born with black hair and purple eyes, within a year after the fall of the Targaryen dynasty.

Being the firstborn son of the King, he was the Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms, or would have been if not for the utter hatred his father showed towards him for his Targaryen eyes. Even his mother hated him. He knew there was no love between his parents, but, his mother doted upon her other devil of a son, Joffrey, even when she hated her firstborn.

Their behavior towards him eerily reminded him of the Dursleys. When he made that comparison, he sensed some amusement from the bond he shared with Death. Her idea of pranks were always odd to him, but he loved her regardless.

Through liberal use of legilimency, he also found out why his parents hated him. Robert hated everything Targaryen because he lost the chance to fuck Lyanma Stark. He might constantly profess his love for her, but he really just wanted her in his bed. Harry found his obsession with her similar to Snape's obsession with Lily. Another similarity.

Cersei hated him simply because he came from Robert. She believes she's in love with her brother, and the rest of her children was from him. She was really a narcissist who "loved" Jaime, simply because he was physically a male version of her.

He met Jaime, and the man loved the idea he has of Cersei. Cersei knows this, and is easily able to maintain that image in front of him.

Harry used magic to make himself look damn near perfect, because immortality comes with a bit of vanity. With nightly practice, he practiced the sword styles he mastered when he was on Earth. He wanted to build his muscle memory back to what it was. During the day, he spent most of his time in the training grounds fighting knights.

He quickly grew to be feared by his opponents in spars. He was so fast with his blade that all his opponents could see was a flash and then, defeat. By the age of eleven, Harry could best multiple knights of the kingsguard at once, including Ser Barristan Selmy, who was revered as a legend among knights. Even his Jamie had been defeated by him countless times before that.

Fearing the growing strength of her firstborn son, Cersei arranged for Harry to be sold to the slavers of Astapor, all for the plot to fail as his captors were slaughtered by an utterly calm child. No attempts were made after that as no slaver wanted to lose his men just to capture a boy, even if the reward being offered could make them rich as a minor lord.

He got back at her by giving her nightmares of the slavers deciding to also steal the other children and defile them. Her exhaustion the couple days after the fact amused him.

The King mostly ignored him and made him fight in every tourney after he turned twelve, wishing for him to fall with the next swing of his opponent's blade. The seven kingdoms knew little to nothing about his appearance and the spectators had laughed when he first entered the melee tournament. But at the end of it, they saw a magnificent and terrifying sight. They saw a twelve-year-old warrior bathed in the blood of his opponents, standing victorious among the mangled corpses of those who fought against him.

In every tournament that followed, Harry swiftly defeated all his opponents, knowing his parents wanted him dead and would even reward his killer handsomely.

He planned to leave King's Landing when he was fifteen or sixteen, but he suddenly decided that he should make a reputation for himself before he leaves. He wanted to start several Revolutions.

First, he made a couple buildings just outside King's Landing, and warded them to prevent thieves. One building was a distillery where he made vodka. Potatoes existed, but because no one in Westeros knew what it was, the merchants who want to sell them are unable to. Harry bought them all with money he stole from Petyr Baelish.

That guy was a conniving, piece of shit so Harry had no issue stealing from him. He actually planned on taking all of Petyr's fortune when he left Westeros.

He invisibly made his way through Flea Bottom, and grabbed corpses for his ventures. Using Necromancy, he fixed all the corpses back to physical peak, then implanted a piece of his magic that will act as both a battery to keep the body going, and a guide to give the body direction.

They were alive, in a sense, just without a soul. Death gets miffed when souls are created an untraditional way. He got a sense of stern agreement from the bond, and that made him crack a smile.

The ambient magic in the air was still present, but it felt… clogged, for lack of a better word. His magic in the corpses could still siphon the ambient magic to power itself without issue, so he wasn't troubled.

He gave them their instructions, and they went to work making vodka, and planting the seeds to make more potatoes and barley in the enchanted soil.

With the other building, he made a factory where glass is made. He made sure to constrain himself to build something that could be plausible in Medieval Times before sending more corpses to begin work.

It took him a while to come up with a brand for the vodka glasses, but he settled on a crow resting on a bone.

In a third warehouse, Harry conjured one hundred new Gutenberg printing presses which he would now call the Crow printing press, two hundred leather inkers, and tens of thousands of removable, steel letter texts. Another stop at Flea Bottom later, and a hundred new "employees" were "hired".

He decided his first book will be based on his "new" idea, the Atlas, something that would be quite useful in this world. It would show detailed maps and give useful information about any particular kingdom, city, or region. He would print one for Westeros and Essos separately in both the Common Tongue and High Valyrian.

Twice the amount of profits.

Finally, he needed to make his intellect known.

"Harold! This is astounding! Absolutely incredible! Do you know what this means!? You could have found the origin of disease!" Exclaimed Grand Maester Pycelle, gesturing wildly and pacing around the room, completely forgoing his usual act. "This will completely revolutionize medicine!"

"Aye, Maester Pycelle! I even noticed, after a few different tests, that not only does boiling water kill these, what I call 'germs', but so does vodka! If everyone, nobles and smallfolk, make sure to boil their water and dispose of waste properly, we could cut down death from disease nearly in half! By cleaning wounds with strong alcohol, we can prevent infections from claiming most soldiers! I've even done some experimenting with mouldy bread, and something about the mould kills some of these 'germs' better than anything else." Harry muttered, rubbing his chin like he was pondering something, throwing the bait.

"Extraordinary! If you don't mind Harold, I need to write all of this down, and send it to the Citadel. They will likely want to send some acolytes and other maesters here to confirm our findings, however." The Maester said, giving him a questioning look.

"As long as it is fine with my father, Maester Pycelle, I have no issue with you and others using my 'microscope' as long as they are careful with it." He replied back.

He actually ended up invited to go to the Citadel. If there was ever going to be a synonym for a university in this odd world this was it. He didn't even need to influence Robert. He just waved his hand uncaringly, and Harry took it as agreement as he ventured to the Citadel.

The Citadel was a university-like complex of buildings extending along both banks of River Honeywine in Oldtown, linked by graceful bridges. The Order of Maesters exhibited a huge deal of influence in all of the Seven Kingdoms. Every castle, keep or land in Westeros had a Maester in it whom acted as 'advisors' and most likely spied on the lords they served. Whether they served their own self-interests or that of their higher up's was a mystery that would most definitely be known the moment he made eye contact with the Archmaesters.

The ruling council of the Citadel was called the Conclave, composed of aforementioned Archmaeters, which elected the new Grand Maester after the passing of the old, decides on policies, and attends to the administration of the Citadel as well as the training of the new recruits.

There are 16 archmaesters and 16 recognized fields practiced and taught in the citadel. The Archmaesters are the apparent 'foremost' experts in their field. These experts in addition of the Grand Maester also formed the Conclave which was the governing body for Maesters who set all their policies and do the day to day running of the collective of maesters.

When he entered citadel he was greeted by these 16 "experts". In his opinion, they looked more like beggars in their dirty grey robes than champions of knowledge they were supposed to be. He had a feeling that the entirety of the Conclave didn't usually welcome a recruit personally, but he figured it was the glowing letter of recommendation by Maester Luwin.

After taking some refreshments, they started the tests with some basic questions that were relevant to Harry's basic education. By the end of the first hour the Archmaesters were greatly impressed. By the end of the second, they were sweating buckets at the child showing more knowledge about certain subjects than some of them.

The looks on their faces were greatly amusing to Harry, he decided to break them even more. When they started asking Maester level questions, he gave perfect verbatim answers, the name of the book they are from, along with the page, paragraph and line. Then he gave his own better understanding of the subject.

By the end of their questions they were looking at him practically drooling.

Finally, he went for the kill. He started showing them some medieval Mathematics and Geometry knowledge – Harold's Theory (previously Pythagoras), the medivial abacus and some simple ways to do complicated calculations including elementary addition, subtraction, multiplication, division, fractions. By the end of this they were ready to chuck the Archmaester of Arthimacy and give Harry his job.

At this point, he was mutilating their corpses when he pulled out another invention. It was a device he called a Pocket Watch. It divided the day into twenty four hours, an hour into sixty minutes and each minute into sixty seconds.

The absolute shock and despair that they radiated at being surpassed by child was funnier when they became jubilant when he passed around small boxes with their own watches as well as instructions on every piece in the watch and how to build one.

By the end of the day, the Conclave practically shoved a forged chain onto him. Now he needed to sit back and collect his money.