AN: FF does not have a tagging system like AO3, and as such, a sketchy summary is often inadequate to give a reader any indication of what to expect from the story. This author's note is meant to compensate for this. Let me begin by saying that this story is not your typical fix-it. Tech uplifts, if any, will be minor. There will be magic, and dark magic too, and Snape will be a major protagonist, though all the characters will have their parts to play. I also have competent!Pettigrew, and there will be no bashing. If this upsets you, this is not the story for you. It is also a Severus Snape/Sansa Stark fic, but this is very slow burn. Minor pairings (also a looong way off) are: Harry/Arya, Hermione Ron.
Prologue
The sky was tinged red as the bright blood moon was obscured by the clouds. Six figures slowly emerged through a tunnel and trudged towards the imposing castle about half a mile away, a seventh figure floating ahead like an eerie puppet. As the clouds parted and the moon beams shone through, a scream rend the air.
Remus Lupin, the best Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher to grace Hogwarts in twenty years, had transformed into a monstrous werewolf. Attracted to the party's sudden flurry of emotions, dementors flew closer.
In another world, a woman in red gazed at the fleet burning in the distance. The ships had been so close to taking King's Landing, and yet it was not to be! The wildfire was unexpected and devastating. Melisandre had been confident of victory with Azor Ahai at the helm. Could she have been mistaken in Stannis? Stannis, who was renowned to be brutally just? As rightful King, who else could be the Promised Prince?
Melisandre watched as Stannis stood, black of hair, black robed and pale faced in the night illuminated by the fire, looking towards his burning ships.
Fire purified, the red priestess knew. Under the sky painted red by the burning ships, the red tail of the comet seemingly underlined the blood moon. Perhaps the Lord of Light was sending a message. Why else would certain victory be turned to a defeat by fire? She would read R'hllor's message in these flames. A thousand men or more were dead now, low born and noble alike. Killed. Burnt in the flames of war. Their sacrifice could not be meaningless. Their deaths had to be a sacrifice demanded by the Lord of Light.
As the flames grew higher and higher, the smoke rose and spread across Blackwater bay, mingling with the salt spray of the sea.
Azhor Azai was to be born amidst salt and smoke. Should not the flames bring forth Azor Ahai now? Melisandre knelt and said the words, exhorting the flames to produce the Prince promised by the legends, her voice rising with every verse:
Bring forth the Prince to end the Darkness,
Wielder of enchanted flame,
Bless their fight O Lord of Light
Malicious shadows who may tame
Bring forth the Prince to light the shadows
They of legend old and new
To bring back life and all that's giving
And our decaying world renew
Bring forth the Prince to fight our evil,
With the will to sacrifice,
And bring back to us a fresh new dawn,
To usher in a paradise
Show me the Prince, O flames of R'hllor!
Saviour and the guide of men!
Bring them forth, O flames of R'hllor!
So that we may live again!
The flames shifted, dark shapes and shadows. Black hair, black clothes, a pale face obscured, an otherworldly shriek and then nothing.
Melisandre did not know it, but seven people from a place called Hogwarts had just been integrated to the world of ice and fire.
