Note: I do not own Harry Potter or The Song of Fire and Ice. I do this for fun and because it might make someone smile. Please don't sue.

Sixty long ships were drawn up on the shores near the keep of Flint Finger. The small town that supplied the keep had a small set of socks but those were taken up by the five cogs that they had traveled along with the captured longships.

The longship been been taken as the Northern troops had swooped down the coast following his plans. They had freed the lands around Deepwood motte. The lands swampy lands of Sea Dragon Pointe had been freed of the ironborn next. Their attention had been careful as they slaughtered the raiders they decided the Stoney Shores and the grasslands of the Rills was the place to take. Finally they had come to the southern side of Blazewater Bay and secured the lands around Flint's Finger.

Besides Moat Cailin the North was now free of the ironborn scum. Harry and his band of Northern tribes had grown from around three thousand to seven thousand as the different lands were freed up. Supplies were not a problem as they took the ironborn own supplies. In fact they were currently here in Flint's Finger readying for the invasion of the Iron Isles themselves.

A bang of a fist slammed into the thick table took Harry out of his thoughts as his emerald eyes swiveled onto old man Lord William Flint. "We should use the ships to protect our shores. I say again it is a fools errand to go the Isles and deal with the ironborn there. We have already defeated them."

"We old man?" The words came from the Harclay. He was a man as large around the belly as he was tall. His leathers bulged out at the midsection but despite his girth he was an amazingly strong man who literally picked up and threw an ironborn raider into a group of five of their number knocking multiple out. His wicked two blades axe on his back took care of the rest of them. "I haven't seen you and your men helping us till we arrived on your shores."

Harry stood up and raised his hand drawing a bit of magic into his throat to clear it. The sound silencing the impending argument. "Lord Flint. Aren't you tired of the ironborn raiding your shores? They steal your small folks. They steal your sheep and aurochs. They steel your trees for their ships. Aren't you tired of it Lord Flint?"

The older man easily in his sixties let out a heavy sigh as he shook his head with a frown, "They never will go away lad. They are like the mosquitoes of the neck. They will nip at you forever."

"That is why I am going to kick over the hornets nest and light it on fire with a torch. We will burn them out and remove their ability to make war on us. They have take our people for thralls and salt wives. They steal our coin, food and livestock. They are no different then a plague on our lands." Harry paused a moment for his breath before he finished. "They are the rotten tooth of the Seven Kingdoms and I am going to pull that tooth out. Come with us or not Great Uncle. But, we are the North and we will be going to get our vengeance."

"The North Remembers! The North Remembers! The North Remembers!" The cheers of his lords and ladies filled the hall and Harry sat back down and pulled a deep drink of his mead.

--

Isle of Blacktyde

Maester Joseran

The fleet of Ironborn ships had been seen on the tides an hour ago. It was hard to miss the returning fleet that had been sent North. The Greyjoy banner of Asha Greyjoy's Black Wind was front and center in the formation of the returning fleet. It was massive group of ships numbering over six and ten ships that looked to be arriving at the harbor shortly.

His lord, Baelor Blacktyde, had ridden down to greet the Greyjoy heir personally upon her successful return as he was interested in her possible hand. The rumor was that she had her hand promised to Eric Ironmaker but the man was older than Joseran was at seven and five years of age. The man was closure to the grave then able to satisfy the wants of the Greyjoy raider.

Still, despite his Lord's happiness at the return of the fleet he could not shake the feeling that something was off. Joseran was not of the Iron Isles but he had been the maester of the keep for the Blacktydes for almost four and ten years now. The way the ships were sailing seemed off. But he was a Greenlander from the Stormlands so none would care for his opinion. He may know ever board and block in the stone and wooden keep of the Blacktydes but it mattered not for the ways of the sea especially to the young lord.

Sometimes it does not pay to be correct. His old eyes could see the sky lit up with arrows that flew off of the ships reaching into the sky before falling like raindrops down upon the waiting host of fifty ironborn with his lord. Perhaps the maester should have ran off to help seal the keep but the fact that it was a skeleton group left from the raiders sent out and the remainder of the warriors were down at the docks meant it was pointless.

By the time the longships started to beach at the town and docks the place was in a panic. Some of the roofs of the homes were on fire. It was spreading fast as if an unholy hand had taken the wind and whipped in around like the swirling masses that the Stormlands had in his youth.

He could barely hear the screams of pain and rage as the slaughter took place. Below in the courtyard men and women ran about locking like chickens when a fox got into the hen house. But it was the voices raised by the invaders that seemed to send a chill up the spine of the maester. The words were sung again and and again by the army,

"Run to the hills

Run for your lives

Run to the hills

Run for your lives"

--

The town and docks had been taken with barely a fight. The soldiers died in moments of the first barrage and the soldiers slaughtered anyone with a weapon. Any man, woman, or child found was captured. They were to be sorted into thralls and salt wives or true ironborn. They would be given the choice of being sent to the North to be given a new life or death.

The keep of Blacktyde was a old stone construct that had seen better days. The wind and rain had broken upon the castle over the centuries and turned it green with mildew on the outside. A wooden palisade took no time for Harry to knock down with a bombard spell. To put it simply resistance was futile for the ironborn left inside the walls.

When it was all said and done the island of Blacktyde had been conquered in under an hour and the fleet gained five more longships while they loss three soldiers. Harry stood in what served as the Great hall with his lords and ladies as they drank the captured wine and drink from the Blacktydes.

Harry frowned as he stared at the group of six men kneeling before him. The grey beard balding man was the Uncle of the current Lord of Blacktyde. The man had been the castellan of the keep and had fought fiercely to defend it. Beside him was really a boy not even in his second decade of life. Dagmar Blacktyde was the second son of the Lord of Blacktyde or the spare to the heir. There was no sisters for the family so now it appeared the boy would end up with this pitiful rock someday if Harry let him.

The final four were priests of this drowned god. The backbone of this sick society. Their preaching of their god and how his family would pay the iron price for what he had done had made it an easy decision to gag them all.

They had all been dragged here to the central square of the former Ironborn keep. All of the inhabitants free woman, children, thralls and salt wives were brought forth. After all he could only perform this show once here.

Harry pushed off of the stone wooden bench he had been sitting on and walked forward before the men. His voice carried to all present as their murmurs quieted, "The House of Blacktyde has been found guilty of attacking the innocent men and women of the North. Their raiders have plundered and stolen our shores for the last time. This isle shall be salted, this keep shall be torn down. Nothing and nobody shall remain of their legacy. All of you who were taken are to be freed back in the North with a chance to live your lives. Your children shall have a future. But the penance for the actions of the raiders for their drowned gods shall be paid today."

His eyes burned as emeralds as they turned upon the six before him. "There shall be no last words because your ways and lives shall be forgotten. Auguamenti."

The magic burned as he forced it through his body calling it forth into a large globe that seemed to float before the six men. A way of his hand forced it to split six times before they floated over to the head of each man. Harry watched as their eyes bulged and they tried to fight against what was coming. A pair of North men each gripped tightly to each of the drowning men holding them sturdy on their knees.

He forced himself to watch as they as the bubbles floating out of their mouths one by one. "What is dead can die. Your false god lied to you. Maybe he will accept you now."

When it was down and none of the men even twitched anymore he turned his emerald gaze on the others of the keep. "Prepare your things as you will travel to the North and freedom from the chains of these men. This island will be forgotten."

Those words spoken Harry turned to walk away as there was still work to be done.

--

Catelyn Stark

The Twins

The camp was massive. The fact that almost all of her son's banners were here were impressive. While she was still mad at Rob for what he had done in breaking his promised marriage with House Frey she could not fight that he had accomplished plenty in this war.

The army before her eyes was close to ten thousand men. While she had wanted Robb to bring all of his strength to here he could not. They had to protect their gains in the Riverlands from the Lannisters. Further with the knowledge that Harry was awake and fighting the Ironborn on the Western coast of the North Robb had decided to send the Manderly and Umber forces ahead of his troops.

The forces to meet up with Lord Howland Reed and help to take back Moat Cailin. Lord Manderly was marching a second host on the demands of Harry to encircle and force the surrender of the Moat. It was a brilliant strategy and should with the help of the swamp devils force their path North open once more.

She wanted to see her boys. After this wedding was over she would go North to Winterfell. She would go home as her penance for releasing Jamie Lannister. Robb had promised he would get Sansa and Arya free. The same as the Lannister knight but in her heart she knew that the Lannisters would never let go of her girls.

She regretted what she had done just as she regretted the terms of the new Frey Alliance. Instead of Robb being married to a Frey now Harry would be along with her brother Edmure. While the marriage to Edmure would be fine since they are the same kingdom she did not care for the fact Robb gave away her younger son.

After the wedding and peace would be set Harry would be sent to the Twins to foster till he was of age to wed. Old Walder said he couldn't trust a Stark not to break his oaths after what Robb had done.

A grimace passed over her face at the thought of what their family had paid and would continue to pay. But it must be done as they needed to secure the North and Robb's Kingdom.

She was so lost in thoughts that she missed the words of the Septon pronouncing Edmure and Roslyn Frey married in the light of the Seven. Her only thoughts about this whole matter was hoping it would be over soon.

--

Catelyn

The feast was far more lively then the wedding. Robb and his wife Talisa sat at the High Table with the newly married couple and old Lord Walder Frey. She was seated next to the old man who droned on to her Edmure on the other side.

The men and woman in the room danced and drank as barrels and barrels of beer and ales were brought in with spits of meat and fresh bread. For an army that had often been at war it was a feast that was being throughly enjoyed. She could not fault the men for relaxing here at a wedding after months of war.

But the music suddenly came to a stop as the Old Lord stood up and raised his hands with a smile showing his yellowed and missing teeth. "We have come today to enjoy the wedding of my daughter and my Lord Edmure Tully. You have been fed and drunk my alcohol. Ow I say it is time for the bedding!"

A great cheer went up from the drunk nobility on both sides before the men and women started to swarm the bride and groom both yelling for the bedding. A small smile crossed the lips of Catelyn as she saw the happiness on Edmure's face.

"He looks happy. It is good that you're father is gone so our families are finally being merged." The old Lord of the Crossings stated to Catelyn.

"My father would have approved of this match I believe." Ever the dutiful lady she answered back instead of telling the truth that her father would be rolling o we in her grave.

A snort cake from the man at the statement, "Don't lie to me girl. He would hate every moment of the wedding. But what is done is done."

A few minutes later the rowdy bunch returned to the chamber to continue to eat and drink. She noticed a small nod from the old Lord that across the chamber was returned. By the pair before they left the chamber closing the doors with a loud thump. Something about the sound seemed off but again she ignored it.

It was only when she noticed the musician starting to play a song not common to a wedding that she paused. Her eyes widened as she recognized the tune. The Rains of Castamere started to fill the room as the old man started to laugh. She heard his voice speaking to Robb as the world seemed almost in a fog.

"The Lannisters send their regards."

Catelyn was grabbed from behind and felt cold steel slice across her neck as her head was jerked backwards. His voice would not come to the cry that she tried to let out. All she could do was gasp as she drowned in her own blood filling her throat. Panic filling her body as her mind was filled with one thought. She would never make it home and see her boys.

Author note: It has been a while on this one. I had a bit of muse so figured would set it free. Still doing this on my phone so my apologies for the piss poor grammar. I hope you all enjoyed it. Sorry for those that wanted me to save Robb. It never was going to happen sadly. All hail the King Harry?